


For You

by finsouls



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, Finding themselves, Happy Ending, Healing, Internal Conflict, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Presidents Daughter AU, Very minimal angst, mostly soft, pop punk band au, songs used in fic aren't mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27215731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finsouls/pseuds/finsouls
Summary: Lead singer of Endless Cycle, Jinsol, is trying to move on from her past that haunts her. President’s daughter, Jungeun, is trying to follow the path her mom set for her. All it takes is one chance meeting to start to believe in themselves again.
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 128
Kudos: 339





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic.

**Chapter One**

Jungeun knows she only has an hour before the secret service finds her again. An hour to be free of the confines of the White House and the strict rules in place as the President’s daughter. She’s tired of it. Barely a year into office, and Jungeun feels trapped. There’s always at least two secret service agents with her at all times watching her every move. Almost all of her steps are marked and reported back to her mom. What’s the point of being an adult if she’s still treated like a child all because her mom decided to run for President. It had been bad enough when she was only a Congresswoman, but now? It was worse. 

Sure, it’s for her safety. But sometimes Jungeun doesn’t want to be safe, she wants fun. 

That’s how she ends up outside a seedy club, the neon lights above the entrance flicker inconsistently. The matinee board reading  _ Tonight! Endless Cycle at 8pm.  _ Jungeun in her baggy sweatshirt and loose jeans fits into the crowd as she goes toward the door. The bouncer at the door eyes her curiously, but doesn’t say anything. 

If she’s honest, this isn’t her first time at this club. 

“I’ll stall Jiwoo as long as I can,” the bouncer says as Jungeun passes. 

“Thanks, Taec.” Jungeun slips through door into the dimly lit building. Floor lights guide her through the narrow hall covered in flyers of other bands and stickers that overlap each other. Music gets louder as she walks further down the hall until it opens up into the club. Bodies move to the beat of the music, hands in the air, and voices yelling the lyrics with the lead singer. A few people move across the top of the crowd, surfing on their hands before the security guards near the stage catch them. 

Jungeun stands toward the back of the crowd, leaning against a pillar beside her. She bobs her head in time with the music, enjoying the rare moment where she gets to be a nobody in a crowd. Right now, she’s invisible. She’s not the oldest daughter of President Kim. She’s not the older sister of the country's shining star, Yerim. She’s not top of her class, not interning for the District Attorney. Jungeun is no one and that’s how she wants to be. 

Her eyes scan the crowd, finally taking a look at the band on the stage. Endless Cycle. She’s heard of the band before, they’re pretty big in their area. An all women band, they’ve gotten a name for themselves, that’s for sure, but Jungeun doesn’t know if that's necessarily a good thing. 

The lead singer stands near the front of the stage, fingers moving effortlessly across her keyboard as she sings into the microphone. Her tattooed covered arms flex as she presses the keys. Jungeun can’t take her eyes off her. The way her face contorts as she sings the lyrics, pain evident in not only her voice but her face, too. Jungeun’s heart feels heavy in her chest as she listens to her. 

“I’ll admit I miss feeling just like this when you said you’d always stay. Bring me back to when we were careless kids making promises we’d break,” the singer belts, her eyes shut tight. When she opens then, she settles them on the back of the crowd. For a brief moment, Jungeun feels like she’s looking at her. 

“Hey, let me buy you a drink,” a man says coming up beside her. He leans on the other side of Jungeun, his hand touching her arm. 

She jerks away, “No thanks.” 

Jungeun turns to leave and collides into the body of another man. 

“Come on, just one drink. No harm in that, right Brad?” He leans around and looks at his friend. 

“Exactly, just one,” Brad smiles wolfishly. 

“I said no,” Jungeun narrows her eyes. Her finger hovers over the panic button in her pocket. It’s only to be used in emergencies, especially if the secret service doesn’t have their eyes on her. Granted she wanted to sneak away for some peace, but she’s not above watching arrogant men get body checked by her female guard, Jiwoo. 

The first guy grabs her arm and pulls her toward him. Jungeun yelps and loses her grip on the panic button. 

“Don’t be such a—” Brad is cut off as a security guard appears beside him, laying a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“You two have overstayed your welcome,” he says, tightening his grip. Brad lets go of Jungeun and she stumbles away from them. “Leave before you have to be dragged out of here on stretchers.”

“But we paid—!” Brad tries to argue, but the guard twists his arm. 

“Do I have to make myself  _ any _ clearer?” 

Brad and his friend shake their heads, backing up and scampering out of the club. Jungeun is thankful for the dark lighting and loud music for not making that a bigger scene. She didn’t need her name on the headlines of tomorrow's news.

“Miss? Jinsol wanted to extend an offer to sit backstage for the rest of the show,” the security guard says to her after he makes sure the two guys are gone. 

“Jinsol?” Jungeun questions, looking around her. 

“The lead of the band, Miss. She saw the incident and sent me to help.” 

Jungeun glances back up at the stage as the song comes to an end. The singer in front of the keyboard is watching her carefully, before turning to the shorter woman with the guitar next to her. They share a quick exchange, both laughing before turning toward their other members

“Right, yeah, sure,” Jungeun says before her brain can tell her any better. At least she’ll have a good story for Yerim when she gets back to the White House. 

The security guard leads her to the front of the venue and then behind a thick black curtain. People move around quickly backstage, stepping over wires and dodging boxes as they pass by them. Someone with a headset calls for the spotlight to get ready. 

Jungeun takes a seat at the side of the stage on a spare chair the security guard could find. He wishes her a good night and goes back to his post. 

Up on the stage, Jinsol and her band have stopped playing music. Jinsol addresses the crowd, “Before our last song, I wanna thank my bandmates! Let’s make some noise for our lead guitarist and voice of reason, Haseul!”

The crowd cheers loudly as Haseul does a quick solo on her guitar and with the widest smiles yells into her mic, “What’s up, DC!” 

The crowd continues their cheering as Jinsol continues. “On the rhythm guitar with a voice deeper than the sea, Heejin!” Jinsol points to the woman beside Haseul. 

Heejin strums her guitar dramatically and winks, “Hello!” 

“Why do you always wink?” Jinsol groans. “Our bassist, Sooyoung!”

“I don’t get a special comment?” Sooyoung glares at Jinsol as the crowd hoots. 

“Fine, our bassist whose bones creak more than an old house!” Jinsol grins at her friend. 

“Shouldn’t have said anything,” Heejin comments as Sooyoung pouts and smacks Jinsol’s arm. 

“Moving on,” Jinsol laughs, dodging Sooyoung. “On drums, our baby, our pride and joy, I raised her myself—”

“You did not!” The drummer rolls her eyes. 

“—Hyejoo!” 

Hyejoo does a fast drum solo ending with the echoing of the cymbals. The cheering grows louder as Hyejoo starts a steady beat, the others join in adding more flare to it. 

“And last but not least,” Haseul says into the microphone, “our lead singer, keyboard aficionado, lover of animals and children’s movies, Jinsol!” 

Jungeun smiles at the blush that appears on Jinsol’s face now that all the attention is on her. The spotlight shines on Jinsol, a smile breaks out on her face as she takes in the cheers from the crowd and her friends. Jungeun finds herself cheering too. It draws Jinsol’s attention from the stage, her smile becoming more timid when their eyes lock. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough! Thank you all for coming tonight, it’s been a while since we’ve played a show in town and I couldn’t think of a better place to do it,” Jinsol says. “We’ve been working hard on a new album so please look forward to it! The reactions from our latest singles make us really excited to share this one with you all. This is our last song, ‘ _ Are You Tired? _ ’!” 

The song starts slow, the guitarists and bassist come in first, followed by the keyboard. Jinsol sings into the mic, voice haunting as the song starts to pick up. There’s a pause before Hyejoo comes in with the drums and everyone on stage joins in. The people in the pit are moving aggressively with the song and Jinsol starts to sing. The energy in the club gets higher as the chorus comes in, the words filling the air. 

Jungeun watches with rapt attention as the band plays off each others’ and the crowds’ energy. They’re having fun and Jungeun wonders what it must be like to feel that free. To have all these people staring at them and yet they still feel free enough to be themselves. 

The lights go down as the band finishes and the members leave the stage to the sound of their fans chanting their names. 

“End-less Cy-cle! En-core!” The crowd repeats as the members pass by Jungeun. They each smile at her as they walk by, taking a bottle of water and towel from one of their staff. 

“Hey,” Jinsol says to Jungeun as she steps off the stage. She wipes her face with the towel and smiles. “Glad you’re okay.”

Jungeun loses any words she had in her head now that she’s face to face with Jinsol. The lead singer’s tattoos paint her skin from her wrists and disappear under the sleeveless shirt she wears. Her dark eyes shine in the faint glow of the lights from the stage. Jungeun is used to being surrounded by uptight and stiffly dressed politicians. She is definitely not used to ripped jeans, bare arms, and tattoos. She attributes her speechlessness on that fact alone. 

“I—Um,” Jungeun breaths in sharply, “You didn’t have to help me out, you don’t even know me.” 

Jinsol tilts her head, smile turning playful, “Maybe not, but I won’t standby when someone is in trouble. They were bothering you, weren’t they?” 

Glancing away, Jungeun wraps her arms around her torso, “They were.”

“For the record, I don’t need to know you to help you.” 

Jungeun had been worried going out tonight that someone would recognize her. It’s the last thing she wants when she sneaks away. And it seems tonight she got away with it. 

Behind them, a woman with blue hair calls to Jinsol, “You can flirt later, Sol, we have a flight to catch!” 

Jungeun blushes at the connotation but Jinsol just laughs, not disputing it. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“I did, you’re all really good,” Jungeun moves out of Jinsol’s way, “Have a safe flight.”

“Right, thank you,” Jinsol smiles at her one last time before walking toward the impatient woman who called for her. She pauses before walking through the door, looking over her shoulder, “You know, I never would’ve pictured the President’s daughter to be into this kind of music. I hope I see you at another show.” 

Jungeun’s frozen in place as the door closes behind Jinsol. She’s left standing backstage as the crew works to get all their equipment together to make their flight. 

Eventually, she makes her way toward the front of the club where Taec is standing with a very irritated Jiwoo. 

“I know she’s here, Taecyeon, don’t make me send the whole secret service into the building and—” Jiwoo stops her rant when she sees Jungeun walk out of the club. 

“Have a good night, Taec,” Jungeun smiles, “let’s go, Wooming.”

Jiwoo heaves a sigh and takes Jungeun’s arm leading her to the blacked out SUV. She speaks into her collar, “I have Artemis, heading back to Olympus now.” 

Jungeun settles against the leather seat, exhaustion finally hitting her. 

“Your mother is going to kill me for letting you get out of my sight again,” Jiwoo signals for the car to go. 

“She’s the leader of the free world, she’s not going to execute you for me running off.” Jungeun shoots Jiwoo a teasing smile, “She might fire you though.”

“Shut up,” Jiwoo’s serious demeanor falls away. “How was the show? Who played tonight?” 

Jungeun sits up straight, suddenly awake at the thought of Jinsol and her band. “They’re called Endless Cycle. Jiwoo, they’re  _ so _ good.”

She talks Jiwoo’s ear off about the concert the whole ride back, pushing any thoughts of her mom’s anger to the back of her head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs in this chapter: 
> 
> Beyond My Control by Meet Me @ The Altar
> 
> Are You Tired? by RØSÉ
> 
> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic

**Chapter Two**

A week after their show in DC, Jinsol slides into the van at the airport with Sooyoung close behind her. Everyone else files in after them, settling with relieved sighs to be done with traveling for now. Their last show of their previous album had been a hit, booking more concerts across the country than they had before. Exhaustion is a small price to pay for making a living doing something they love. 

“Alright, let’s hit the road, ladies!” Chaewon yells as she jumps into the passenger seat next to their driver. She ties her blue hair up into a bun and grins at the band in the back seats. “You’ve got the few hours it takes for us to get to the apartment to relax before we jump back into the studio.”

There’s a collective chorus of groans as the engine roars to life. 

“Only a few _hours_?” Heejin throws her head back against the headrest. 

“Yes, and you should be thanking me! You five would be playing shitty music in a garage still if it wasn’t for me,” Chaewon narrows her eyes at them. “Now you get to play shitty music in concert halls and clubs.”

Jinsol chuckles as the weight of Sooyoung’s head falls onto her shoulder. She peers at her friend to find Haseul’s head leaning on Sooyoung’s shoulder, too. Both already falling asleep. 

“We jokingly made you manager six years ago and somehow we got stuck with you,” Hyejoo says before putting her earbuds in. Chaewon smacks her leg and turns back around in her seat to buckle up as the van starts to pull away from the curb. 

“Ungrateful, all of you,” Chaewon huffs. 

“Love you, Chae!” Jinsol calls from the back of the van. 

A sleepy Sooyoung hits her, “Shh, sleeping.” She snuggles deeper into Jinsol’s side and Haseul snuggles closer to Sooyoung. Jinsol doesn’t fight it, she never does. The three of them started the band together when they were seniors in high school. Now here they are, six years later, with two kids and a nagging Chaewon to look after. The six of them have been through a lot together, they’re a family. They’ve seen the best and the worst of each other, and Jinsol wouldn’t have it any other way. 

But she knows a lot of the worst they’ve been through has been because of her. 

* * *

Chaewon hadn’t been joking when she said they only had the rest they’d get is the car ride. They had dropped their bags off at their shared apartment for the six of them, freshened up, and then were back in the van on the way to the studio barely two hours later.

Everyone is more awake this time as the van cruises down the highway. Jinsol took the front seat this time, wanting some quiet from the rest of the members. She likes to rest her voice when she knows she’s going to be recording, even if it’s for a short period of time. It had started as a joke when they first started out, way before they even settled on a name. Heejin told her she would sing better if she stopped yelling before they had a set and the others didn’t think she could do it. It became a superstition because that night she had sung better than she ever had. 

Jinsol glances in the rearview mirror. In the middle seat she can see Heejin and Chaewon sitting close together, their hands barely touching but inching closer and closer. Hyejoo is glaring at them out of the corner of her eye, probably tired of listening to them flirt, but she comments sometimes. All the way in the back, Jinsol spots Haseul and Sooyoung with their heads bent together, talking to each other like no one else exists. 

Hyejoo notices Jinsol’s gaze and rolls her eyes at their friends. They share a laugh before Hyejoo gets dragged back into a conversation. 

“I’m just saying Hyejoo has great vocals! Why can’t she sing sometimes?” Chaewon argues with Heejin. 

“Because Hye says she doesn’t _want_ to sing, she likes just hitting her drums or whatever,” Heejin says. 

“I never said I didn’t wanna sing, I just don’t want to sing live,” Hyejoo adds.

“Perfect, you’re going as background vocals for ‘ _High Hopes_ ’,” Chaewon says with finality. Heejin grumbles in her seat. 

Jinsol shakes her head at them, tuning out the rest of the argument that continues despite Chaewon’s decision. She watches the car pass by them as they make their way through town. They pass by the club that they had played a week ago and Jinsol’s reminded of her moment with the President’s daughter. The blonde haired woman hadn’t crossed her mind since she left for their last concert. 

It had been shocking to say the least to see Jungeun Kim at their concert that night. It’s not usually a place for politicians let alone the eldest daughter of the President of the United States. Jinsol actually isn’t sure how Jungeun managed to get into the club unnoticed, part of her wished she had her security with her so that incident near the bar hadn’t happened. At least she noticed before those men had gone too far though. Still, now that she’s thinking about her, Jinsol is kind of hoping she sees her again. It’s not like it matters though, Jungeun probably doesn’t remember her anyway. Jinsol is insignificant in the grand scheme of all that the first family has to deal with in life. Their chances of meeting again are slim to none. 

“We’re here,” the driver says as they pull up to Eden Records. Jinsol steps out onto the sidewalk, looking up at the towering glass building in front of her. Endless Cycle had been signed onto the label only three years ago, but it has been an exhilarating experience for them. They still maintained a lot of their own creative freedom. Eden Records really provides resources and advertising, taking a percentage of what they make. Jinsol has no idea how Chaewon managed to get them under this label, but she isn’t going to question it. 

“They really take this ‘Eden’ thing seriously,” Sooyoung says, coming up beside Jinsol. They’re both staring at the tall tree that lives in the middle of the building's reception area. Branches of the tree reach up through the middle of the building, reaching the third floor at its height. Lush green leaves shine vibrantly in the sunlight streaming through the glass panels. Jinsol always thought the tree seemed out of place, surrounded by chrome walls and white marble floors. It’s like the only living thing within the building. 

“Let’s go! We’ve got a hit album to record!” Chaewon claps her hands, holding the door to the building open for Sooyoung and Jinsol. 

“Has she always been this demanding?” Sooyoung asks with a sigh. 

Jinsol shrugs and links her arm with Sooyoung’s before heading up to the studio. 

* * *

“Nice work you guys,” Chaewon says as they finish laying the instrument tracks. The producer is mixing the track to make it cleaner. Jinsol flops onto the couch at the back of the room, exhaustion making her bones feel like lead. 

“Can we go home and sleep yet?” Heejin whines laying down on the couch and placing her head on Jinsol’s lap. Jinsol runs her fingers through Heejin’s hair, the younger girl humming as her eyes close. 

“If we want to get this album out by the third quarter then we’re gonna have some long nights, Heej,” Haseul says with a yawn. 

“Thank you, Seulie,” Chaewon nods and then hands Jinsol the lyric sheets. “You’re up. Make sure we feel that pain.”

“Chae!” Sooyoung scolds. “Don’t be so heartless.”

“She wants to capitalize off her pain, she needs to make us feel it with her.” Chaewon shrugs as Jinsol gently places Heejin’s head off her lap and onto the pillow on the couch. 

“And you don’t need to be a dick about it, this is how she’s healed,” Sooyoung rolls her eyes and offers a smile to Jinsol. 

“I’m right here, you know,” Jinsol says, breaking her hours of silence. She takes the sheet of papers from Chaewon and walks back into the sound booth. Once the door shuts behind her, she can’t hear Chaewon and Sooyoung arguing anymore. Through the glass she can see them getting in each other’s faces only for Haseul to step between them. Jinsol looks away. 

She places the headphones on and takes a deep breath. The first two singles they recorded for this album had been hard enough. Writing the words down on a page is easy enough. Sharing them with her bandmates to create a song is harder. But recording them? Singing them? Putting herself back in the headspace she had been in when she wrote them? It’s an entirely different level of pain. 

Jinsol isn’t trying to capitalize off her pain, she isn’t trying to heal, she’s just trying to figure out how to be herself again. How to be the person she thought she needed, the person she thought she was before everything happened. 

“Jinsol?” Chaewon’s voice comes through the booth speakers. “I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to upset you or imply—”

“I know, Chae, don’t worry about it,” Jinsol forces a smile. “Let’s just record this, yeah?”

“Right, start from the top, let us know when you’re ready.” 

Jinsol takes a deep breath, adjusts her headphones and gives them a thumbs up. Haseul and Heejin come in on the guitars first, then Hyejoo with the drums, and Sooyoung with the bass. Jinsol keeps count and then starts singing. 

“You got the nerve to come and say that you’re not standing in my way, when we both know that you’re not who you say you are and you’re a mess. And you know it. Even though you try real hard, still show it; still show it. You can’t take it back; with all I tried. All I know’s that you can’t shape me,” Jinsol sings, her heart aching at the memory of the night she wrote these lyrics. A bottle of whiskey deep and a pile of torn pictures on the floor. “I’ve been up and I’ve been down and I was kinda hoping you could be my hero!” 

It took her months to figure out how to end the song. Everything she came up with before never worked, never fit. All she had wanted was to forget who she was before it all fell apart. She had thought she needed to go back to her past to fix it, to be the same person she was then because at least that Jinsol had been happy. Healthy. Jinsol finally realized that she’d never be that person again and that her past self isn’t going to fix what her present self has done. 

Doesn’t mean the realization doesn’t hurt any less. 

“Well, I’ve had high hopes up till now and now I’ve realized you’ll never be my hero, never be my hero.” Jinsol feels the dam about to break. “You’ll never be my hero.” 

She takes the headphones off and turns to leave the booth. 

“That was great! We need to—Jinsol? Wait, where are you going?” Chaewon calls out to her but Jinsol doesn’t stop. She pushes past Sooyoung and Haseul who are reaching for her. Takes her phone that Hyejoo is holding out to her, and leaves the room. She doesn’t stop until she’s down the street in front of a small coffee shop near the local university. 

Jinsol sits on the bench out front, head in her hands as she tries to catch her breath. Sometime between them entering the recording studio and now the sun had fully set. Only darkness had been there to meet her when she left the building. And now only the barest light coming from the coffee shop behind her lets her see what’s in front of her. 

She shouldn’t have run out, she knows that. Her phone keeps going off with notifications from their group chat asking her to come back, to let them help. A separate chat with her, Haseul, and Sooyoung goes off, too. 

**Seulie:** you don’t have to come back if you don’t feel like you can 

**Soonotsoyoung:** but you do have to tell us where you are 

**Seulie:** and that you aren’t drinking 

**Soonotsoyoung:** and pinky promise to tell us the truth, we won’t be upset 

**Soonotsoyoung:** and bring me home some of those chocolates I like 

**Jindori:** i’m at a coffee shop

 **Jindori:** i’m not drinking

 **Jindori:** and fuck your chocolates

 **Seulie:** we love you, we’ll be at the studio for a few more hours

 **Soonotsoyoung:** love you 

Jinsol sighs and pockets her phone. Writing this album had been cathartic, but singing it is like having to relive those moments all over again. Everything she has put into healing and growing seems to be unraveling. Jinsol had wanted this album to be the bookend of that time in her life, something she could finally leave behind her. But now it’s haunting her instead. _She’s_ haunting her. 

“Do we _have_ to go back to the White House, Jiwoo? Can’t we, I dunno, go somewhere fun?” 

“Your mom gave me explicit instructions to make sure you only go to school, internship, and back to the White House, Jungeun.” 

“Jungeun?” Jinsol whispers to herself, her head whipping around and catching a glimpse of the blonde head of hair walking down the sidewalk. There are two secret service agents with Jungeun. Before Jinsol can think any better, and honestly because she’s tired of thinking in general, she jumps up from the bench and races after her. “Jungeun, hey!” 

Jungeun turns around at the sound of her name, catching sight of Jinsol coming toward them. Jinsol’s eyes widen comically when Jiwoo starts to move toward her, pushing Jungeun behind her. 

“Wait, Jiwoo, don’t! She’s a—I know her, it’s okay,” Jungeun puts her arm out to stop her guard. 

“She looks...dirty, what do you mean you know her?” Jiwoo eyes Jinsol suspiciously. 

Jinsol looks down at her baggy sweatpants and bleach stained sweatshirt. Her cheeks turn red. “I had a long flight…” 

“So, I can’t flip her?” Jiwoo turns to Jungeun. 

“Not her, no.” Jungeun walks closer to Jinsol with a smile. “Remember that band I was telling you about?”

“You mean the one with the ‘ _really hot’_ lead singer. How could I forget, you were drool—” 

Jungeun covers Jiwoo’s mouth with her hand, blushing furiously, “This is the lead singer of the band. Jinsol, this is my annoying best friend slash bodyguard, Jiwoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jinsol stretches out her hand. Jiwoo ignores it. “Or not….” 

Jungeun rolls her eyes. “How was your last show?” She asks Jinsol. 

“Awesome, we actually sold out the venue,” Jinsol smiles, remembering the size of the crowd, the deafening cheers. “We just got back this morning. We’ve been in the studio basically all day.”

“For your new album, right? That must be exciting.”

“I, uh, yeah, it is. Nerve wracking is more accurate...it’s—it’s a very personal album this time around,” Jinsol rubs the back of her neck, looking away. 

“Jungeun, we gotta go,” Jiwoo interrupts. 

“Before my mom sends out the national guard,” Jungeun rolls her eyes. “No, really, she will. She’s so overprotective.”

“It was good seeing you,” Jinsol says, surprised that she actually means it. 

“Yeah, same, maybe I’ll see you next time I sneak out.”

“You will _not_ be sneaking out, you promised!” Jiwoo groans. She starts pulling a grinning Jungeun away. 

“Wait!” Jinsol reaches into her pocket, pulling out one of her band’s old business cards. “Not that you’ll be sneaking out, but if you ever wanna see another band, or I dunno, wanna see how music is made, call me.” 

“I will,” Jungeun says, taking the card from her hand. Jiwoo clears her throat. “I mean, I won’t…” Jungeun winks and let’s Jiwoo guide her away. 

“You know I’ll have to give her a background check before you can call her, right?” Jiwoo says as they start walking away. It’s loud enough for Jinsol to hear. 

Her stomach drops knowing that whatever Jiwoo dredges up won’t be all good. Maybe it’s for the best if Jungeun makes up her mind before they get to know each other. Jinsol doesn’t need to be in the spotlight anymore than she had in the past, especially not with the President’s daughter.

But still, there’s just something about Jungeun that makes Jinsol want to say fuck it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song in this chapter: 
> 
> High Hopes by Yours Truly
> 
> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic.

**Chapter Three**

Jungeun is in the family dining room of the White House trying to eat her breakfast in peace. The phone upstairs is going off constantly, members of staff coming in and out of the dining room to make their way to the Oval Office. Several secret service agents chatter into their comms about her mom’s location. 

“Hera is in the Oval Office,” one of them says into their comms. 

“Yes, I’ve got eyes on Artemis,” another one says, “Family dining room.” 

Jungeun sighs, taking another bite of her toast. Another day in the White House and another day being continually monitored. No matter where she is, at any given time of day, Jungeun is being watched. At times it can be comforting, but she’s just eating breakfast, what’s the worst that could happen?

“Jungie!” A cheerful voice calls. The next moment a body slams into her side trying to hug her. Instead, her glass of coffee on the table spills onto her lap, soaking her pants through. 

“Yerim, really?” Jungeun stands up, grabbing a cloth napkin to dry herself off. A member of the staff comes rushing in to clean up the mess. Jungeun thanks her even though she’s still uncomfortable with the idea of someone else cleaning for her. 

“Sorry,” Yerim pouts, “I was just excited to see you!”

Jungeun shakes her head, but smiles despite herself. “I missed you, too. And now I need to change.” She thanks the staff members again before leaving the family dining room with Yerim walking next to her. 

“Artemis and Theia leaving the dining room,” one guard says. 

“Never gets old, right?” Yerim rolls her eyes. 

“It gets _very_ old,” Jungeun throws her arm around Yerim’s shoulder, hugging her to her side. “How was your first year at college?”

They walk through the french doors out into the hall, vibrant red carpet runs down the length of the ornate hallway. Massive oil paintings hung on each wall, with plaques labeling the rooms that lie behind the doors. No matter how long they live in the executive residence of the White House, Jungeun never gets used to it. And by the stiffness in Yerim’s shoulders, neither has she. 

“It was great!” Yerim smiles and waves to each person they pass in the hall, greeting them each by name. “Having Hyunjin with me made it easier to be more comfortable.”

“The Chief of Staffs kid?” Jungeun asks. She hadn’t gotten to know a lot of the kids of the staff members, they fall closer to Yerim’s age than her own. Plus, hanging out with another White House kid is the last thing Jungeun wants. 

“Hyuna’s daughter, yeah. Secret service had the school place us as roommates just for safety reasons, but it was still fun. We got really close, I think you’d like her,” Yerim says as they finally get into Jungeun’s room. A guard appears and relays their location again. “Is it really necessary for them to follow us around while we’re in the residence, too?”

“They follow us everywhere, Yermie,” Jungeun starts to dig through her closet to find a new outfit for the day. “But I’m glad you had someone you know with you. I really missed you though, I’ve had no one to entertain me while you’ve been gone the whole semester.”

Yerim sits on her bed, and tosses a pillow at her, “Liar. Don’t think I haven’t heard about you sneaking out all the time.”

Jungeun peaks her head out of her closet, “Do you blame me? It’s stifling here, there’s always someone breathing down my neck. Do this, do that, be this, don’t be that. I’m tired.”

When Jungeun emerges from the closet, she has on black dress pants and a white blouse. She holds her arms out to the side and spins in a circle. 

“It’s boring,” Yerim sighs and gets up off the bed. “Just because we’re the President’s kids doesn’t mean we need to dress like a stick in the mud. Where is the _color_ , Jungie? And why are you dressing up anyway?”

“I have to meet mom for some press conference on The Hill.”

“Why didn’t she invite me?” Yerim feigns offense, but Jungeun knows her sister is relieved. 

“She wanted you to settle in first, get used to all this again before having you join events.” 

“I’ll be back again in no time to suffer with you.” 

“The press eats you up, they love your whole sunny demeanor,” Jungeun rolls her eyes and receives a playful shove from Yerim. 

“I am America’s sunshine after all.” Yerim smiles brightly at her and then ducks into the closet. Intermittent tuts and sighs can be heard from outside the door. 

Jungeun isn’t sure how she made it this far without her sister being home, it’s felt empty. Maybe she can convince Yerim to sneak out with her one night...to see a certain band she hasn’t stopped thinking about. 

She peers over at her desk, the business card Jinsol gave her a few nights ago tacked to her corkboard. Since she saw them play at the club, Jungeun has been listening to their previous albums. Each one telling a story as she goes through the songs. Though it’s clear that they’ve gotten more talented throughout the years. Jungeun is excited to see what this new album is that Jinsol mentioned. 

“Okay, put these on, it wouldn’t kill you to make your outfits a little more…” Yerim gestures wildly with her hands. 

“Fun?” 

“I didn’t wanna say it again, but yes. Fun. Loosen up!” Yerim shakes her sister by her shoulders. 

“You know how mom is,” Jungeun says when she gets Yerim to let go of her. “Everything has to be ‘proper’ because we have—”

“An image to maintain,” they say in unison. 

“I just want to be me, sometimes, not the President’s daughter,” Jungeun admits as she changes into the rose pink high-waisted pants suit that Yerim picked out. The pant legs are baggier than the slim fit ones she usually wears. She tucks the plain white t-shirt into the pants and shrugs the matching rose pink jacket on. Inside the jacket is an abstract pattern set into a darker fabric with outlines in rose pink. As she adjusts the sleeves, she steps back out for Yerim to see. “Is the pattern owls?” 

Yerim nods, and then smiles clearly pleased with herself. “You don't have to be that.” 

“An owl?” Jungeun rolls the sleeves up a little and takes a seat at her desk across from Yerim. 

“Just the President’s daughter. You can be yourself and that.”

“It’s not that easy, Yerim.” Jungeun takes a deep breath. She’s only seen as the President’s daughter. At school, at her internship, with her friends—not that she has many left anyway. No one wants to hang out with the girl who comes with her own bodyguard. It definitely dampens the mood at parties. It’s not even that though, Jungeun is tired of following the path her mom wants for her. The same path her mom went. 

Study law, become a lawyer, then a judge. Run for local office and win in a landslide. Maintain progressive values and do not waver. Run for reelection, win in another landslide. Start campaigning for Senate. Run for Senator, win, but barely. And do all that by the age of thirty. 

Jungeun is very far behind, but she can’t help but drag her feet. She hates where she’s going in life. But she can’t find it in her to fight against her mom’s wishes. 

“Or you’re just making it complicated,” Yerim shrugs and swings her legs out, jumping from the bed just as someone knocks on the door. “And, that’s my cue. Good luck with the press!” 

Yerim flings the door open dramatically and greets Jiwoo. 

“Yerim, you’re back!” Jiwoo hugs the younger girl tightly. 

“Keen observation skills, Jiwoo,” Jungeun drolls. 

“She’s all yours, she’s in a _mood_ ,” Yerim waggles her eyebrows with a laugh and disappears out of sight. 

Jiwoo steps into the room, closing the door behind her. She raises an eyebrow at Jungeun. 

“I’m only in a mood because she spilled my coffee on me—”

“You mean your five pounds of sugar with a splash of coffee,” Jiwoo teases. 

Jungeun glares at her, “Are you here to escort me to the car?”

“In a minute, I actually wanted to talk to you about that friend of yours,” Jiwoo holds up a folder with Jinsol’s name written on it. She flips open the folder, “Jinsol Jung, lead singer and keyboardist for pop punk band, Endless Cycle. Twenty-four years old. She has—”

“You seriously ran a background check on her?” Jungeun stands up and forces the folder shut. 

“I told you I had to before you could exchange numbers,” Jiwoo frowns. “Jungie, you know I’m just doing my job.”

Jungeun groans, running her fingers through her hair roughly. “I know that, but it still feels wrong.”

“It’s for your safety.” 

Jungeun falls back into her desk chair, elbow leaning on the table, and chin propped up on her palm. “My safety…” 

“She’s not—Jinsol has a past, Miss.”

“Jiwoo,” Jungeun says sternly, eyes narrowing again. 

“Right, sorry. Jungeun, she has a past and it’s not...it’s not pretty,” Jiwoo holds the folder out to her. Jungeun just looks at it without moving an inch. Anger bubbling up inside her. She knows Jiwoo is doing her job. Knows that she has to be careful about who she interacts with because of her mom’s powerful position in government. Jungeun knows all this, but it doesn’t stop her from being angry. 

She doesn’t want her friendships to be dictated by who would create a bad image for the first family. All she wants is to be normal, even for a minute. And at that concert, talking to Jinsol, she didn’t feel like anyone else other than Jungeun. 

“It’s a delicate situation because you’re—”

“Jungeun Kim, daughter of the President, _I know_ ,” Jungeun seethes. “Tell me this, is she a bad person?”

“It doesn’t look great,” Jiwoo says, standing her ground. “Listen—”

Jungeun cuts her off, “Has she killed someone?”

“No, but—”

“Kidnapped, maimed, manslaughter, theft?” 

“Well, no…”

“Do you have reason to believe that anything that happened in her past is something she would do again to harm me, my family, or anyone else?” Jungeun stands up, keeping steady eye contact with Jiwoo. For once, she’s going to take control of her life. Even if it’s just this one decision. 

“There’s nothing in her file that would suggest she would, but that doesn’t mean—” 

“Jiwoo, if she isn’t actually a threat to my safety, then I don’t give a damn what her file says about her,” Jungeun takes the file from her and shoves it through the paper shredder beside her desk. A loud mechanic whirring fills the room, cutting through the tension they’ve built. “I appreciate you wanting to protect me, whether it’s because of your job or because you’re my friend, but I don’t need to know what those papers said. She may not even be in my life longer than a minute, but she deserves a chance to tell me those things in her own time.”

Jiwoo looks like she’s ready to argue with her, but she only nods curtly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Jungeun takes a deep breath. 

“Just, and I say this as your friend, please be careful,” Jiwoo says softly. Jungeun nods once and gives her a quick hug. 

“I will. Now, we have a stupid press conference to attend, so, take me to the car,” Jungeun gestures toward the door. “And on the way, I’m going to talk about her and her band nonstop and you’re going to endure it.”

“What else are friends for,” Jiwoo laughs, holding the door open for her. 

Jungeun stops before leaving the room and pulls the business card off the corkboard. With the all clear from Jiwoo, Jungeun can finally send Jinsol a message. What she’ll say? She has no clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> discalimer: i do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic

**Chapter Four**

Jinsol is in the band's shared apartment getting ready for the day. She’s at her desk, finishing writing down notes for the songs they’ll be recording today. Dark lines cross out words and arrows point to shifts in verses. She chews on the back of her pen as she looks over the words. 

Hyejoo’s alarm finally goes off and she rolls over in her bed with a groan. “Morning,” she mutters, before stretching her arms up. Jinsol waves, following her usual routine of resting her voice. Hyejoo slides out of bed and shuffles toward the door, “Want breakfast? Your usual?” 

Jinsol nods and Hyejoo heads out of their shared room. The two of them had been roommates since they moved into this apartment two years ago. Neither of them wanted to deal with the constant bombardment of flirting if they roomed with any of the other four. They love them dearly, but they’re insufferable when they’re with their girlfriends. Or, as Heejin and Chaewon claim, not-their-girlfriends. Jinsol rolls her eyes at her friends. 

She gets up to change now that Hyejoo is awake, she didn’t want to make too much noise. Waking a sleeping Hyejoo is like a death sentence. Jinsol prefers to stay on her good side. They’ve been close since Hyejoo joined the band. She had been so young then, Jinsol basically treated her like a little sister. And with her absent parents, Jinsol, Haseul, and Sooyoung did their best to raise her. But Jinsol has always been closest to her, they have a similar way that they see the world. Not to say they’re cynical, but they’re not as upbeat and cheery as the others in the band are. Sometimes they just want silence or space, and they understand that with each other. There’s a silent communication that happens between them. 

When Jinsol got back to the studio the other night when she ran out, the others swarmed her with questions and concerns. Offering advice or whatever they could to soothe her, to comfort her. She knows they mean well, but it sometimes does more harm than good. 

Hyejoo on the other hand just offered half of her candy bar before going to record her back up vocals. That’s it. A silent gesture that told Jinsol all she needed. 

Jinsol’s shoving her head through her blue sweatshirt when her phone vibrates on her desk. Everyone who would text her is in the apartment right now. The only person it could be is a certain blonde who she ran into the other night. Jinsol’s confused by the excitement she feels, pushing it away to indifference. She doesn’t know her, and even if she did, she’s in no place to pursue anything with her. Not that that’s what’s on her mind. But Jinsol still feels hopeful in a way that she hasn’t in a while. 

**Unknown:** Hello Jinsol, it’s me, Jungeun Kim. 

**Jinsol:** you dont text people often do you?

 **Jungeun:** Not really, no. Why? Is it that obvious?

 **Jinsol** : ...yes 😂 

**Jungeun** : You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?

 **Jinsol** : maybe a little 

**Jinsol** : im honored to be your first text 

**Jungeun** : You’re not my first! I text my little sister all the time when she’s at college.

 **Jinsol** : and im sure she teases you too 

**Jinsol** : hang on

Jinsol finds herself smiling at her phone despite the warning alarms blaring in her head. She dials Jungeun’s number and calls her. 

Jungeun picks up on the first ring, “You’re meaner over text”

“Was I just plain mean in person?” Jinsol closes her lyric book and leans back in her chair, a teasing lilt to her voice. 

“No, but still…” Jungeun huffs on the other end of the line. 

“I’m glad you finally reached out though,” Jinsol says, “I was thinking about you.”

“Oh?” Jungeun sounds shocked and Jinsol’s face burns. 

“Uh, what I meant was I was just thinking what you’d think of this song I’m working on…” Jinsol internally groans. 

“I’m sure I’d like it, I’ve been listening to your bands other songs,” Jungeun says, and Jinsol can hear another voice in the background, followed by sirens. “And I’m sorry it took a few days to text you, my bodyguard had to do a background check.”

Jinsol swallows thickly. She knows exactly what would be in her file, a series of poor decisions she made when she had been in a haze of pain and alcohol. “I’m surprised you reached out at all then.”

“I didn’t look at it,” Jungeun says matter of factly. “Jiwoo, my guard slash annoying best friend—yes Wooming, you’re annoying.”

“Um…”

“Sorry, she’s sitting next to me, we’re on the way to a press conference with my mom,” Jungeun sighs heavily. “Jiwoo has concerns, but I didn’t wanna hear it from her.”

“No?” Jinsol smiles. Most people read the articles and watch the videos. Anyone who has attempted to get to know her in the past year has slowly disappeared because of it all. They make up their minds, unwilling to hear her side. 

“No, it’s your life, Jinsol. It’s your story to tell and I’d rather hear it from you one day.”

“What makes you think we’ll be friends that long?” 

“I don’t know, just a feeling, I guess,” Jungeun says and Jinsol can hear the smile in her voice. Another voice, Jinsol guesses it’s probably Jiwoo, speaks in the background again. “Ugh, okay. I have to go, Jinsol. We’re almost to The Hill...Capitol Hill. I just wanted to reach out and let you know I didn’t forget about you.”

“I’m pretty unforgettable, so I had no worries about that.” A grin spread across Jinsol’s lips, but it disappears as soon as she hears feet coming back down the hall. “I gotta go, too. We’re recording more songs today.”

“You’ll have to send me some sneak peaks. Being friends with a rockstar has to have some perks.” 

“Only if I get to know some government secrets in return,” Jinsol laughs. “Jiwoo is glaring at the phone right now isn’t she.”

“Death glare,” Jungeun laughs with her. 

“Well as long as she doesn’t punch me in the face—”

“No promises,” Jiwoo yells for her to hear. 

“She will not punch you,” Jungeun says sternly. “Anyway, maybe I can see you again soon?”

“Sure, we can talk more later, in the meantime, let’s work on your texting skills.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You text like a politician or a middle aged mom,” Jinsol points out, gaining an offended scoff from Jungeun. 

“I—Goodbye, Jinsol.”

“Bye Jungeun.” The line goes dead and Jinsol puts her phone down. She’s smiling as she spins around in her chair. Behind her, Hyejoo is standing there with a teasing smile and a plate of breakfast for her. 

“Did I just hear you talking?”

Jinsol’s eyes widen, realizing she broke a nearly six year ritual. She shakes her head, even though it’s very obvious Hyejoo had been there long enough to hear her. 

“Mhm, sure,” Hyejoo hands her the plate. “You look happy.” Hyejoo steps away into the bathroom to change, leaving Jinsol to try to wrap her head around that. Happy. Could that even be possible that someone she just met could make that much of an impact already? Jinsol tries to think about distancing herself already. It’s not the worst idea. Being seen with the President’s daughter isn’t exactly something she wants for herself. That’s too much attention not only for her but for Jungeun. 

And yet the thought alone feels impossible. Jinsol’s drawn to Jungeun. Whether that’s a good thing or not, she isn’t sure. 

“We’re just friends,” Jinsol says, feeling the need to clarify for Hyejoo when she emerges from the bathroom. 

Hyejoo looks like she’s prepared to tease her again, but her expression softens. “You’ve never broken that rule before, not even for—” Hyejoo stops. 

Jinsol’s heart feels like lead in her chest, but she tries to keep her expression neutral. The look of pure guilt on Hyejoo’s face is enough for Jinsol to shove any negative feelings behind that ironclad door inside her. She can’t expect her friends to dance around the subject. It’s unavoidable considering the entire album they’re recording now is about it. About her. About everything bad that happened from that night onward. 

She walks over to Hyejoo and loops her arms through hers. Jinsol takes Hyejoo’s hand and squeezes it, letting her know it’s okay. It’ll be okay. Silently, they head off downstairs to meet Haseul, Sooyoung, Heejin, and Chaewon to head to the studio. 

* * *

They’ve been in the studio for a few hours now, trying to nail down the instrument tracks for this new song. It’s yet to be titled, none of them can agree on it yet. Sooyoung is standing by the soundboard watching Haseul lay the lead guitar track for another song. Heejin is fast asleep with her head in Jinsol’s lap, her feet propped up on Chaewon’s thighs. Jinsol catches glimpses of the small smiles Chaewon sends toward a sleeptalking Heejin. 

“Disgusting,” Hyejoo grumbles, crossing her arms. “Are you two dating yet or?”

“No, there’s nothing—” Chaewon starts to say, but the disbelieving looks coming from Jinsol and Hyejoo make her halt. “We’re happy where we are right now.”

“Happy or comfortable?” Hyejoo asks, voicing the same thing Jinsol is thinking. 

“We—It’s not that easy. If something bad were to happen between us we could ruin the whole group,” Chaewon says, then glances at Jinsol. “Not that I mean…”

Jinsol shakes her head, waving her friend off. She turns back to her phone, pushing the implication out of her mind. She focuses on watching the recap of the press conference with President Kim and Jungeun on Capitol Hill instead. Jinsol won’t lie to herself, Jungeun looks beautiful standing tall and proud next to her mom. Her face schooled into a professionally neutral expression. Her demeanor is detached, but somehow still warm. Jinsol can tell just by looking at her that Jungeun would rather be anywhere else but there. 

“Since when do you keep up with politics?” Sooyoung asks, taking a seat on the arm rest next to her. She slings an arm around Jinsol’s shoulders, leaning into her as she stares back up at Haseul in the booth. 

Jinsol shrugs, and shows her the headline. 

“President Kim’s firm stance on non-discrimination legislation,” Sooyoung reads the title outloud and nods, “Glad I voted for her, she’s probably one of the most progressive President’s we’ve had in a while. The oldest daughter, Jungeun I think, she’s _gorgeous_. She’s got nothing on Haseul, but still,” Sooyoung reaches over and pauses the video when the camera is zoomed in on her. “She was at our last show in DC, but you know that.” Sooyoung raises a brow but Jinsol remains silent. The blush on her cheeks give her away. Jinsol locks her phone and pushes Sooyoung off the armrest. 

“Mhmm, you’re acting sus, Sol!” Jinsol just glares at her. “Fine, fine, I’m taking the children to get food. I’ll bring you and Seul back your favorites.” 

Sooyoung shakes Heejin awake. 

“Wha—what? Do I finally get to sing on a track?” Heejin says, jolting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“No, food time. Let’s go, kiddies.” Sooyoung kisses Jinsol on the head, something she’s always done since they were kids, and holds the door open for Heejin, Chaewon, and Hyejoo. 

“Okay, Grandma,” Hyejoo deadpans as she walks out of the door gaining her a swat from Sooyoung. 

“Be good! Make magic!” Chaewon calls over her shoulder as the door closes behind her. 

The producer is talking Haseul through a section he wants her to switch up a little. Haseul gives him a thumbs-up and puts the headphones back on. 

Jinsol settles back into the couch, ready to go back over her lyrics for the song they’re recording now. Her phone buzzes on the cushion next to her. 

  
**Jungeun:** is this better? yerim told me to stop using so much punctuation

 **Jungeun:** and capital letters

 **Jungeun:** and to send a million texts instead of one

 **Jungeun:** this is not efficient at all

 **Jungeun:** yerim is my sister by the way

 **Jungeun:** btw* she also said to use acronyms why is this so hard

 **Jinsol:** youre starting to sound like a person your age now congrats 

**Jungeun:** if i was a middle aged mom, id be a milf 

Jinsol nearly chokes reading the message. 

**Jinsol:** so you know what milf means but not how to text like a human?

 **Jungeun:** i dont live under a rock Jinsol 

**Jinsol:** no but youre as stiff as one

 **Jinsol:** you need to loosen up 

**Jungeun:** that’s the third time i’ve heard that today

 **Jinsol:** maybe you should listen then :p 

Haseul comes out of the booth a moment later, and flops on the couch next to Jinsol. “It’s just you and me, buddy. Ready to get singing?”

Jinsol takes a deep breath, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Haseul squeezes her hand tightly before Jinsol stands, “If you get overwhelmed, just take a few minutes. I know this one is...I know a lot of these songs are personal and painful. Sometimes you have to feel it again to get past it.” 

Holding tight to her lyric book, Jinsol walks into the booth. Outside, Haseul asks the producer to leave for this one, since she knows how to work the console anyway. He shrugs, and takes his stuff, leaving them alone. 

She presses a button and her voice comes through the speakers in the booth. “You remember when we were seventeen and we told Sooyoung we wanted to start a band?” 

“Soo said it was stupid and we wouldn’t go beyond your parent’s garage,” Jinsol laughs at the memory. “You begged her for weeks before she caved.”

“Same thing happened with this album,” Haseul says after a moment. “She didn’t want you to have to relive everything all over again, but you wanted to work through it. Whatever it is you’re feeling, just feel it, Sol. You’re safe with me, with all of us.”

A lump forms in Jinsol’s throat. She remembers Sooyoung fighting her on the album concept. She remembers the screaming match that ended with both of them crying in each other's arms. Both hurting in their own ways. Jinsol and Sooyoung have been best friends since they were kids, since they were neighbors that made mud pies and took singing lessons together. 

Sooyoung is older and stronger. She’s always taken care of Jinsol and when Jinsol fell apart right under her nose without her knowing...she took the blame. She beat herself up. The last thing she had wanted was to watch Jinsol suffer through it all again as they record the album. 

But Jinsol needs this, needs to let out all the things she has kept to herself for the past year. 

She reaches into her pocket, her fingers brushing over the chipped paint of a token she carries with her everywhere. She takes it out of her pocket, out of Haseul’s sight, and looks at the faded golden token. The letters have long since worn off, but she knows what they said; knows what it means. Her jitters start to fall away, little by little. Jinsol made it this far, she can keep going. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Haseul says. 

Jinsol takes a deep breath and gives a thumbs up. The music comes on, slower than the other songs they’ve recorded. Lone, somber piano fills her ears. It seemed fitting, considering all that this song is about to use only piano. The sound alone is enough to make that empty space in her chest ache. An echo of a past pain that’s begging to resurface, to make noise. 

But as she sings, she tampers down the emotions that keep coming up.

“So pick your poison, I’m indifferent now. Do you still want me around, around?” Jinsol sings. She makes it up to the chorus before Haseul cuts her off. 

“You’re holding back.”

“I know,” Jinsol removes the headphones, rubbing her face roughly. “It doesn’t feel right; the words.”

Haseul nods, like she had been feeling that too. “The line, in the chorus, you have it written as ‘I drink and drown,’ right?” 

“I drink and down, and I should know better,” Jinsol says. 

“What if you change it to ‘I drink _to_ drown’ instead?” 

Jinsol looks down at her notebook, a memory of that night rushing back to her at the sound of those words. A memory that Jinsol had long forgotten, or had just pushed to the back of her mind, resurfaces.

Haseul had been the one that was there when she hit rock bottom and it all fell apart. Jinsol called her first. She was drunk, sobbing on a park bench on one of the colder nights of the spring. The only sound that Jinsol could get to come out of her mouth were broken sobs and pleas for help. Somehow Haseul managed to find her, curled up on the bench, clutching a stuffed animal bunny to her chest. A broken bottle of whiskey on the ground next to her, which had clearly been emptied. Jinsol barely remembers anything, but she remembers Haseul asking her why she had drank so much. And Jinsol’s response had been—

“I drink to drown,” Jinsol whispers as her vision blurs. “From the top.” 

On the stand in front of her, Jinsol’s phone lights up with a text from Jungeun. 

**Jungeun:** Good luck recording, I’m rooting for you. 

**Jungeun:** I know it has proper punctuation, but you’ll live :p 

Despite the pain in her chest, Jinsol lets out a soft chuckle. And when the music starts, she feels more prepared now to give it her all. To pour everything she felt that night and every night after into this song. 

“If you love me, saturate me. I’ll pick my poison; I’m indifferent. And I drink to drown, I drink to drown,” Jinsol sings, voice raw with emotions and tears begging to be shed. “And I should know better, but I don't, so I drink to drown. I drink to drown…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i do not own or claim to own any of the songs in this fic 
> 
> also, i know NOTHING about making music so just pretend or ignore the things that are probably wrong okay? awesome.

**Chapter Five**

Jungeun feels like a school girl again, laying on her bed, phone in her hand, listening to music that makes her think of Jinsol. Mostly because the music she’s listening to  _ is _ Jinsol’s. She has Endless Cycles songs on repeat, blasting them through her room while she texts her. It’s been like this for a few weeks now. A series of text messages and phone calls. A bombardment of teasing and snippets of songs Jinsol’s been recording. Everything before, everything leading up to their friendship has felt like a fever dream. It’s been over a month since they met in person, over a month since Jinsol swooped into her life, and Jungeun is starting to think they’ll never be more than friends at a distance. 

Yet everyday she wakes up she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care if all she gets is voice memos of a song chorus or a teasing good morning text that she fell asleep super early. Jungeun can’t imagine anyone thinking Jinsol is dangerous, not when she has a collection of lego figurines that take up most of her room. But every time Jiwoo sees her phone light up with Jinsol’s name she stiffens, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Jungeun tries to pay no mind to it, but Jiwoo has rarely ever been wrong. It’s one of the reasons she had been assigned as Jungeun’s secret service agent. Her intuition saved her ass on more than one occasion during the campaign trail. Not to mention the physical strength Jiwoo has. Jungeun’s seen her flip someone over her shoulder without breaking a sweat. 

But what does make her sweat is Jinsol. And Jungeun can’t figure out a way to show her there’s nothing to be worried about. At least in regards to her safety. Maybe her reputation will tank, maybe her image will be tainted, but honestly? That’s a small price to pay in taking back control of her life. 

Or...some of her life. 

A very tiny part of her life, but it’s something. 

**Sol:** anything on your schedule today?

**Jungeun:** nope

**Jungeun:** for once i’m frreeeeee

**Sol:** no stuffy suits no boring meetings

**Sol:** you’re gonna sneak out again aren’t you?

**Jungeun:** i know better than to write that anywhere

**Jungeun:** big brother’s watching 

**Sol:** i know the feeling

“Who  _ hurt _ you?” Yerim asks loudly over the music. Jungeun sits upright on her bed, reaching over to use her remote to pause  _ Are You Tired? _ by Jinsol’s band from playing. She looks over toward her sister who’s standing with Hyunjin and the Communication Directors daughter, Yeojin, in her doorway.

“What do you want?” Jinsol asks bluntly, clearly upset with being interrupted. 

“We wanted to see if you’d like to come with us to the bowling alley,” Hyunjin says as the three of them walk into Jungeun’s room. Uninvited she might add. 

“But clearly you’re going through it,” Yeojin points out, hopping up onto her desk chair. “The song was good though, who was it?”

“A band called Endless Cycle,” Jungeun says slowly, watching the three of them walk around her room. 

“Ah, the woman Jiwoo doesn’t want you hanging around with,” Yerim nods thoughtfully to herself. “I’m assuming you’re gonna hang out with her anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m an adult, I can do what I want.” She pauses, brows furrowing. “Wait, how’d you—”

“Vivi,” the three of them say in unison. Vivi, the personal aide to her mom, tends to hear more than she should and somehow finds a way to share the less important secrets around the White House.

“Of course,” Jungeun sighs. “Not that it’s  _ any  _ of your businesses, but I’ve been talking to Jinsol a lot lately.”

“So, did she break your heart cause that song was intense,” Yerim shifts on her feet and then tilts her head. “Unless...unless someone broke  _ her _ heart.”

“Ooh, yes,” Yeojin nods, “That would make sense.”

“And if someone did, she can tell me in her own time,” Jungeun stands up and walks over to the three of them. Placing her hands on her hips, she sets a steely gaze on each of them. “If any of you start looking into her, I will find out, and I  _ will not _ hesitate to hurt you.”

“You couldn’t hurt a fly,” Hyunjin challenges. 

“Maybe not, but I have several guards that won’t question it if I send them after you, now will they?” Jungeun knows its not true. There are limits to what the secret service will do for them, but Jungeun is sure she can find a way around it. If she had to, that is. “Promise me you won’t? I don’t want to screw this up with her.”

Yerim, Hyunjin, and Yeojin all exchange a look before nodding. Each of them put their pinkies out and say, “We promise.”

“Sold, now, get the hell out of my room.” Jungeun swings the door open gesturing for them to leave. Hyunjin and Yeojin get up begrudgingly and trudge out the door, pausing to look at Yerim. 

“You coming?” Yeojin asks. 

“I’m gonna help Jungeun with something real quick,” Yerim sends them along, leaving her and her sister alone. “Shut the door, Eun.”

“Will I ever get rid of you?”

“At the end of August, yes. Right now, you’re stuck with me.” Yerim pushes Jungeun into the desk chair. “You’re an idiot.”

“You’ve been talk to this band singer for weeks now—”

“Four and a half weeks.” 

“Oh, god, you’re counting?” Yerim facepalms. “You’re  _ useless _ , you know that, right? Almost five weeks and you’ve only seen her in person…”

“...Twice.” Jungeun’s face burns. She turns her gaze away from Yerim. 

“Text her right now and ask her if you can see her,” Yerim picks up her sister’s phone from the bed and throws it at her. Jungeun barely catches it. 

“I can’t do that! They’re recording their album, I don’t want to distract her. Not to mention Jiwoo would never let me go there.”

“She’s your guard, not your boss. She goes where you want her to go even if she puts up a fight,” Yerim sighs. “And she can’t talk to mom about it, not unless something bad happens or you ditch your agent again. Which none of that will happen.”

Jungeun doesn’t answer, instead she opens her texts and stares at Jinsol’s name on the screen. 

“You’re thinking of more excuses.”

“She doesn’t like me like that.”

“Are you serious?” Yerim groans, “No, really, I know I’m younger than you, but clearly you are just dense. She texts you everyday, sends you clips of their songs, and random pictures throughout the day. She’s  _ interested _ and you’re a dumbass.”

Jungeun frowns and looks up at her little sister, “When did you become so mean?”

“When I went to college. Now, text her or I will.”

“And if she doesn’t want me to?” Jungeun’s voice is thick with worry. An insecurity she hadn’t been aware of before creeps up in her, latching onto her. 

“Then you can go back to listening to that sad and somehow angry music,” Yerim says dismissively. But her voice softens after a moment, “But, Jungie, what if she does?”

The unknown is scary. It’s always been scary. Jungeun had hated not knowing if her mom would be elected President. She hated that they spent years campaigning, polling, throwing events and rallies. She hated that throughout all of that she had no idea if all that effort would be worth it in the end. If that was even the life she wanted to have for herself. 

While she can’t say for sure if she’s happy here, at least she knows the effort paid off. So, maybe the same can be said for Jinsol. Maybe it’ll be something she ends up not wanting, but at least she should try. Because this is what she wants now, this is what feels right to her, even if it’s scary. Even if it makes her hands shake and heart race. It’s a decision she can make for herself. Jungeun’s the only one that can make the decision. 

“Will you come with me?” Jungeun blurts out before she even types a message to Jinsol. 

“What?”

“I’ll feel more comfortable and you can convince Jiwoo better than I can to let me go.”

“I told you, she has to listen to you.”

“But she won’t, she likes to blur the lines between friendship and guard, and that’s fine. She’ll listen to you, Yerimie, please?” Jungeun folds her hands together and pouts at Yerim. “I’m not above begging.”

“Please don’t.” Yerim smacks Jungeun’s hands away, “I’ll go with you. Now  _ ask _ .” 

With a dramatic sigh, Jungeun opens her messages with Jinsol again. The first thing she sees is a picture she hadn’t noticed before of Hyejoo sleeping on the couch with a wide array of objects piled on top of her. A plant, a chair, a stack of empty coffee cups, a cymbal on her head, and another band member in a green sweatshirt lounging across the back of the couch. 

**Jungeun:** do you actually do any work?

**Sol:** all work and no play is boring as fuck 

**Sol:** we all cant be politicians

**Jungeun:** im NOT A POLITICIAN

**Jungeun:** my mom is 

**Jungeun:** and not all politicians are boring

**Sol:** riiight sure and im a queen 

**Jungeun:** you wish

**Sol:** i do actually. maybe i was in another life 

**Sol:** and for the record we have been working we got two more songs recorded today 

**Jungeun:** are you gonna be in the studio the rest of the day?

**Sol:** yup day and night. chaewon never lets us rest 

**Jungeun:** in that case...can my sister and i stop by?

**Jungeun:** if thats okay 

**Jungeun:** and your bandmates are cool with it 

**Jungeun:** i mean obviously if youre cool with it too 

**Sol:** yes 

**Jungeun:** i dont want to bother you and your friends 

**Sol:** Jungeun i said yes stop rambling

**Sol:** id love to see you for once 

**Sol:** and to meet your sister 

**Jungeun:** really? 

**Sol:** yeah really :] does this mean youre sneaking out? 

**Jungeun:** no i have a plan

**Sol:** id say dont get arrested but i dont think they can arrest you 

Jungeun looks up and grins at her sister sheepishly. 

“What’d she say?” Yerim bounces on her toes. 

“Um, she said she’d love to see me…” Jungeun blushes, “And that you can come, too.”

“Perfect, let me go work my magic,” Yerim smiles and dashes out of Jungeun’s room without another word. Jungeun laughs at the confused face of the agent outside of her door. She takes the chance to change into something more suitable for hanging out with a band than her usual dresswear. Which just means she puts on a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. 

Yerim rushes back into the room with Jiwoo and another guard, Somi, in tow. “They begrudgingly agreed if they can send other agents ahead to assess safety and access points.”

“Begrudgingly?” Jungeun raises a brow. 

“I had to beg a little,” Yerim shrugs, “but once I break out the pout, they cave. They always do.” 

“Remind us to suggest that to the President when we need her to agree to something,” Somi grumbles and receives an elbow to the ribs from Jiwoo. 

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” Jiwoo glares at Jungeun. “I will keep a close eye on you two, no sneaking off.”

Jungeun salutes with a cheeky grin, “Yes, Ma’am.”

As they head toward the front of the residence, Jinsol sends a warning text to Jungeun about the secret service agents that’ll be showing up. If this is how she can see Jinsol in person, then Jungeun will have to deal with it. Even though she knows Jinsol and her friends might be very intimidated by the secret service.

* * *

When they walk through the studio door, guarded by two agents, Jungeun halts immediately. On the couch, sandwiching two small women, are two secret service agents. They have bags of chips in their hands and are laughing at something one of them had said. Jungeun spots Jinsol leaning against the opposite wall, talking to another agent and gesturing to different pieces of equipment in the room. 

Jiwoo clears her throat. “What the  _ hell _ are you doing? You’re not paid to shoot the shit with them. You’re paid to  _ protect the first family _ .”

The agents all stand at attention and nod solemnly. “Sorry, Ma’am. Area is clear.” 

“It better be or I know exactly who is getting fired,” Jiwoo glares at each of them. “Get to your posts.”

The three agents walk briskly out of the other studio door. When the door shuts, Jungeun laughs nervously. 

“Um, this is Jiwoo, my bodyguard.” 

“She’s scary as fuck,” one of the woman says from the couch with a deep voice. Jungeun recognizes her as the guitarist, Heejin. She lifts up a bag of candy and offers it to Jiwoo, “Want some?” 

Jiwoo glares at her, but Yerim strides past the two of them leaving Somi by the door. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” she takes a candy and smiles. “Thanks, I’m Yerim.” 

“America’s Sunshine,” Heejin nods. “Heejin, this is Haseul.” 

The other woman on the couch smiles and shakes Yerim’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your mom is incredible.”

“She has her moments,” Yerim shrugs. Jungeun is just standing there next to Jiwoo still in awe at all of this happening. That Yerim can simply walk into a room and feel so at ease and make everyone else feel the same way. 

“Jiwoo, Somi, please wait outside,” Jungeun says, finally finding her voice. Somi shrugs and gives Yerim a look before walking back out the door they came through. 

“Jungeun—” Jiwoo stops and clears her throat, “Miss, I don’t think—”

Jungeun turns to Jiwoo. “Either you wait outside with the others, or you sit here and not ruin this for me,” she says in a hushed tone. “I mean it. I’m happy, and I need you to see that.”

Jiwoo takes a deep breath, the tension falls away from her shoulders, and she nods. “Okay, you’re right. I still think you need to be careful, but I trust your judgement.”

“Good, now eat some of the candy Heejin offered and stop being a stick in the mud,” Jungeun smiles and finally,  _ finally _ , walks over to Jinsol who has been waiting patiently across the room. The smile that breaks out across Jinsol’s face isn’t unlike the one when the crowd had been chanting her name at their concert. Wide, bright, full of awe, and it’s aimed directly at Jungeun. 

“I was starting to think you forgot why you came here,” Jinsol teases when Jungeun reaches her. They stand impossibly close, tempted to reach out and close the gap, but not daring to. Not yet. 

“To get away from the White House, obviously.” Jungeun says with ease. Part of her feared talking to Jinsol in person wouldn’t be as easy going as it had been through text. But they’re still comfortable, familiar, like they’ve been hanging out in person this whole time. The only difference is the loud background noise of the rest of the people in the room. 

“Have you punched someone before?” Heejin asks Jiwoo who has a handful of candy now. 

Jiwoo nods as she finishes chewing, “I’ve shot some people too.”

“I once broke my guitar over someone’s head,” Heejin grins. Beside her, Jiwoo stiffens and Haseul smacks her friend. 

“Because that’s  _ exactly _ something you should tell a secret service agent, Heejin!” Haseul pushes her off the couch. 

Yerim is laughing at the pair, “Why’d you do it?”

“He was being aggressive with Jinsol, so I grabbed the closest thing I could find and swung,” Heejin winks over at Jinsol. “Saved your ass.” 

“And I’ll never live it down,” Jinsol rolls her eyes with a smile. 

Jungeun watches Jiwoo glances between the three in the room with them, like she’s trying to really size them up. She’s not sure what she’s thinking but a moment later Jiwoo shrugs off her suit jacket and lounges back against the couch. Jungeun takes it as a good sign. 

The door to the studio flies open and a small woman with bright blue hair appears, grumbling under her breath. She halts when she sees new people in the room and then sighs. “We’re never finishing this album at this rate.”

“This is Chaewon, our manager and occasional producer,” Jinsol introduces her. “This is Jungeun and her little sister over there is Yerim.”

“The President’s daughters,” Chaewon nods. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Same here,” Jungeun says and Yerim nods in agreement, too busy eating the candy that Heejin is definitely not getting back. 

“Your guards are massive, like whole ass trees kind of massive. Trying to get back to the studio was like walking through a forest.” Chaewon sits in the seat in front of the mixing console and goes back to work. 

“You’ve met Heejin and Haseul,” Jinsol says. “Sooyoung is—”

The door to the studio flies open again. A woman with short, dark red hair comes back into the room and tosses a blue leather bound notebook at Jinsol. “Stop leaving your shit everywhere.”

“Where—”

“On top of the vending machine in the hallway,” the woman shakes her head. “How did you even  _ reach _ that, Solie?” 

Jinsol scratches her head, “I’m not actually sure….Anyway! Sooyoung, this is Jungeun, and the one over there is her sister, Yerim.”

Yerim smiles brightly from the couch, “Nice to meet you!” 

Sooyoung returns the smile and then looks at Jungeun.

“You’re the bassist right?” Jungeun asks. 

“I am. You’re Jinsol’s gi—friend, you’re her friend,” Sooyoung looks past Jungeun and then glances away. 

Jungeun ignores it. “You dyed your hair.”

The bassist's eyes light up, “At least  _ someone  _ noticed!” Sooyoung throws her hands up in the air and flops onto the empty chair next to Chaewon.

“We noticed, we just didn’t care,” Chaewon says bluntly next to her. There are hums of agreement throughout the studio. 

“You hate me, I get it,” Sooyoung crosses her arms with a huff. 

“Wow, took you six years to get there,” Heejin chimes in. Sooyoung takes the pen Chaewon has and whips it at Heejin. But it hits Yerim instead. 

Jiwoo sits up, eyes narrowing on Sooyoung who looks petrified. “Oh, shit, I’m—” 

Before Jiwoo can move, Yerim takes the pen and throws it back, smacking Sooyoung right on the forehead. Everyone falls silent for a moment and then laughter fills the studio. Even Jiwoo is trying not to laugh at the stunned expression on Sooyoung’s face. 

Jinsol reaches out to Jungeun, pulling her closer, but letting Jungeun just lean on the wall next to her. Their hands brushing accidentally. Neither pulls away. 

“Alright, alright, quiet, I need to get this track done,” Chaewon shushes everyone. She presses a button on the console, “You ready?” 

“Yup,” a voice from inside the instrument booth says monotonously. Jungeun hadn’t noticed anyone sitting in there before, but realizes now that the drummer is missing from the group. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Chaewon says and presses another button. The light in the studio goes red.

Jinsol leans over, whispering into Jungeun’s ear sending shivers down her spine. “Hyejoo lays the percussion track first for most of the songs, helps give the beat for the others to follow when they record their parts. She’s a few songs ahead of the rest of us.”

“She’s really good,” Jungeun answers, leaning a little more into Jinsol. “Why don’t you record them as a group though?”

“We do, for the demo or the guide, but once that’s pretty solid, we do it like this to make the track as clear as possible.” Jinsol takes Jungeun’s hand in hers.

Jungeun tries to ignore the leap in her chest, and she certainly misses the blush that covers Jinsol’s cheeks beside her. She looks across the room to Yerim who has finally noticed there’s another person in the room with them. She hands the candy bag back to Heejin and walks over to where her sister and Jinsol are standing. 

“Who  _ is  _ that?” Yerim whispers, eyes focused on Hyejoo in the booth. Her black hair whips around her head as she plays the drums passionately. 

Jinsol laughs at her, and Jungeun doesn’t blame her, Yerim is staring star struck into the studio where Hyejoo is playing. “Hyejoo, our drummer, she’s—” 

“ _ Gorgeous _ ,” Yerim cuts her off, mouth slightly agape. 

“I was gonna say she’s your age, but sure, yeah,” Jinsol looks at Yerim quizzically. “I’ll introduce you two when she comes out of the booth.”

“Oh,  _ oh _ , okay, yeah, yeah. Jungie, how do I look?” Yerim turns to her sister. Jungeun releases Jinsol’s hand instinctively. 

“Fine? Why are you freaking out?” Jungeun rolls her eyes. 

“Because there’s a pretty girl?”

“And  _ I 'm _ useless. Okay,” Jungeun scoffs and pushes her sister away. “Go away.” 

“But Jinsol said she’d—” 

The music stops and Chaewon gives the thumbs up from the console. “Nice work, Hye. We should be good with that, unless Sol decides to change it up on us again.”

Hyejoo comes out of the booth a moment later, wiping sweat off her brow, she smiles at the new faces standing next to Jinsol. 

“We have groupies now?” Hyejoo jokes with a wry smile. 

“Hyejoo, this is—”

“Jungeun and Yerim, the President’s daughters,” Hyejoo says. She wipes her hands on her jeans and shakes their hands respectively. “Unlike everyone else, I actually follow politics.”

“Excuse me, I  _ taught _ you about politics,” Haseul yells from her spot on the couch. Hyejoo just sticks her tongue out at her. 

Yerim’s smile brightens, “She knows my name.” 

Hyejoo tilts her head with a laugh, “I do, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Do you listen to our music, too?” 

“Um, no, but I will now,” Yerim says and then starts to bombard Hyejoo with a million questions about her music. Hyejoo just smiles and somehow guides Yerim back over to the couches to talk with her more. 

Jungeun tries not to let her sisterly instincts kick in, but she can see Jiwoo keeping an eye on the pair and it makes her feel somewhat at ease. 

“I’ve never seen Hyejoo like that…” Jinsol muses out loud. 

“Like what?” 

“Happy,” Jinsol knits her brows together. “The same could be said about me though.” 

Jungeun turns around and looks at Jinsol’s face. She’s staring down at the notebook in her hand that Sooyoung tossed at her, contemplating something. “You look happy to me.”

The corner of Jinsol’s lips curl up, “Maybe I am.”

Their eyes are locked, a silent conversation flowing between them. Jungeun isn’t entirely sure what’s being said, but she knows the warmth in her chest is enough to know it’s good. 

“Okay, lover girls, Jinsol’s gotta do the vocals for two songs, you can flirt later,” Chaewon pushes Jinsol toward the vocal booth. Even as she’s being shoved into the room, her eyes still stay on Jungeun the whole time. 

Jungeun sends her a thumbs up and mouths, “good luck,” before taking a seat on the only free seat left in the room, which is next to Sooyoung. She watches Jinsol set herself up in the booth. Flipping open her notebook and placing the headphones on her head. Jinsol pulls something out of her sweater pocket and spends a minute staring down at it before she gives Chaewon the go sign to start the track. 

“You must be special,” Sooyoung says to her, learning forward in her chair, elbows resting on her knees. Jungeun turns in her chair to look at her. “Jinsol has this...I guess you’d call it a superstition where she doesn’t speak on the days she records her vocals. To rest her voice or something. I dunno, she’s done it for years.”

“But she was just…” Jungeun glances at Jinsol. Her eyes closed tightly, emotions flickering across her face at a rapid speed. 

“Just talking to you...yeah. She has been this whole time,” Sooyoung smiles gently at Jungeun. “I don’t know you well, other than what I’ve seen about you and your family in the news. But I don’t care about any of that, none of us do. We care that since you came into her life she’s been...different.”

“Different?” 

“Listen,” Sooyoung juts her chin in the direction of Jinsol. 

The song picks up and Jinsol’s eyes open, finding Jungeun’s. She smiles again before the chorus hits and her emotion changes. “Goodbye, the sun rises here. There’s no more you and I. Tell me, how can you sleep? How can you breathe? Baby, tell me how, how you love me now.” 

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, or politician, to figure out that she was in a dark place. And it’s not my place to talk about it, but just know that you’re good for her. Or you seem to be,” Sooyoung squeezes her shoulder gently. Jungeun doesn’t answer, instead keeping her eyes on Jinsol as she finishes the song. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sooyoung walk over to Haseul and kiss her. 

Chaewon asks Jinsol to just sing it one more time and then they’ll go on to the next song. 

Jungeun doesn’t move an inch. She sits there watching as Jinsol sings line after line again. Watching how her face changes with the lines, as she tries to hold back something that the lyrics are forcing her to feel again. Sooyoung is right. It doesn't take much to realize that Jinsol had been hurting when she wrote this song, all of these songs. And it really doesn’t take much to know that she’s hurting having to sing them again. Yet, when she wraps up the second run through, her shoulders are less tense. She looks lighter as she smiles, exhausted but relieved. 

They don’t take much of a break as Jinsol goes right into the next song. The next couple of hours is a series of rerecordings of this second song. Chaewon is saying Jinsol isn’t getting mad enough and Jinsol can’t seem to find it in her to get angry enough to give the song the right feeling. 

Hyejoo excuses herself from her conversation with Yerim and Jiwoo to go talk to Jinsol in the booth. Jungeun’s not sure what Hyejoo even says to her in the booth, but the two go back and forth for several minutes. Jinsol stops talking, her face contorted in anger. She nods curtly to Hyejoo and turns back to the microphone. Once Hyejoo is out of the booth, Jinsol sends Chaewon a thumbs up and the music plays again. Everyone in the room sits tensely in their seats, wondering what Hyejoo even said to Jinsol, but also if this take will finally be it. 

As the song builds up, Jinsol’s pain and anger comes through with every word. It’s a punch to the gut to see her so vulnerable, so in pain, and there’s nothing Jungeun can do but sit there and listen. She doesn’t know who these songs are about, or even what they’re really about. All Jungeun knows is that if she ever gets her hands on the person that caused Jinsol so much pain….

“I never wanted to say this. You never wanted to stay. I put my faith in you, so much faith, and then you just threw it away. You threw it away!” Jinsol sings powerfully, effortlessly. Goosebumps cover Jungeun’s arms as the song comes to an end a few minutes later. 

“Perfect, Sol, you can come—” Chaewon says but Jinsol pushes open the booth door before Chaewon finishes talking. 

Jinsol’s eyes search the room and settle on Jungeun. Their eyes meet and it’s like a piercing pain shoots through her chest. Jinsol steps out of the studio and Jungeun glances toward Jiwoo. She’s watching Jungeun carefully, but she surprises her by nodding her head and looking back toward Yerim. 

Jungeun rushes out the door after Jinsol. She finds her not too far away leaning on the railing of the walkway. The walkway stretches across the main foyer of Eden Records. Branches from the tree a few floors below stretch up toward them, nearly reaching them on the fourth floor. The sun set a while ago, leaving only the flickering street lights and passing cars. 

Jungeun slides up next to Jinsol, bumping her shoulder. “You okay?” 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Jinsol says.

“Your human, you were hurt, you’re allowed to be upset.”

“I didn’t want you to see that...it’s not pretty.”

“I’m not scared of you or judging you, if that’s what you’re worrying about.” Jungeun spares a glance at Jinsol. The dark haired woman is leaning on the railing, arms crossed on the bar, looking out at the night sky. She’s not showing any emotion on her face, but her eyes give her away. Jungeun can see she’s scared. “And I’m not going to ask you why you’re angry, or what the song is about, or what Hyejoo said to you that pissed you off. I’m just gonna ask if you’re okay. So, are you?” 

Jinsol takes a deep breath, forcing the air out quickly through her nose. She turns to look at Jungeun finally, a carefully crafted smile on her face. “No, but I will be.”

Jungeun hesitates for a second, but decides to follow her gut right now. Follow her heart. She reaches out to Jinsol, taking her by the hand and pulling her into her arms. Jinsol tenses for a split second and then melts into Jungeun’s embrace. 

There’s a faint flash of light that Jungeun shrugs off as a passing car, not wanting to ruin this moment. It’s the first time since she became the President’s daughter that Jungeun has felt like herself. 

They stay like that for a minute, with Jinsol tightening her grip with every passing second, until she releases a deep breath. 

“I—Thank you, I didn’t know I needed that,” Jinsol smiles softly. 

Heat rushes up Jungeun’s face, tinging her face and tips of her ears pink. “Yeah, me neither…” She clears her throat, stepping away from Jinsol. “We should probably—” she gestures back to the studio—“before Jiwoo comes out here.” 

“She doesn’t like me, does she?” Jinsol asks as they walk back to the studio door. The agents near the door nod to Jungeun.

“No, but I do, and she’ll have to deal with that,” Jungeun says, nonchalantly, despite the hammering of her heart in her chest. Jinsol laughs loudly as they walk back into the studio, pulling all eyes toward them. Jinsol’s friends stare at the two of them with equally amused and surprised expressions, but they don’t say a word.

Jungeun and Jinsol take a seat with the rest of them. Conversation flows easily between them all, even Jiwoo gets more into it with everyone else. She’s still alert, Jungeun can see it in the way she talks into her comms and scans the room on occasion, but she seems more relaxed than before. Yerim is even enjoying herself, or more like the drummer sitting next to her. 

When her and Yerim finally make it back to the White House later that night and Jungeun drags herself to bed. Exhaustion weighing down her limbs. Her phone buzzes on her side table just as she’s about to fall asleep. She’s quick to grab it thinking it’s Jinsol saying goodnight, but by the continuous buzzing, Jungeun knows it’s not. 

The name on her screen lighting up in the dark of her bedroom:  **Press Secretary Sera**

“Oh, shit,” Jungeun mutters and then answers the call, “Sera, what’s—”

“Your mom wants you in the Oval Office. Now.” 

“Okay, but what happened?” Jungeun slides off her bed. 

“Journalist caught you with a woman at Eden Records. They got a photo of you two embracing each other and looking very...intimate together. The journalist was kind enough to tip me off about the story, but it’s running tomorrow,” Sera says. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Jungeun rubs her face, her mind racing back to the moment there was a quick flash of light. She should’ve been more careful. “Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Jungeun rushes to change and then heads toward the west wing with the guard at her night post. She walks through the brightly lit Rose Garden and into the side door of the secretary’s office outside the Oval Office. Her mom’s personal aide, Vivi sits at one of the desks, half asleep on top of a pile of papers. At the other desk is Miss Lee, who is packing up her bag for the day. 

“Hi, Miss Lee, Vivi,” Jungeun says politely. Vivi groans from her desk, barely lifting her head to say hello. 

“Jungeun, dear, your mom is waiting for you inside,” Miss Lee says with a pitying smile. 

“She’s pissed isn’t she…”

Miss Lee lifts the lid of the cookie jar on her desk and offers her a cookie. Something she only does when she feels bad for a person or she likes them. And since Miss Lee has always been more impartial to Yerim, Jungeun knows that what’s coming isn’t going to be good for her. 

“Thanks,” Jungeun says quietly. 

“Have a good night, dear. Vivi, please go home and get some sleep, the President said you could leave two hours ago,” Miss Lee says as she’s passing by the desk to leave. “Oh, and Jungeun, she has the rest of the senior staff in there as well.”

“All of them?” Jungeun gulps. 

“Hyuna, Joohyun, Chungha, Jessica, and Sera,” Miss Lee nods, and with one last pitying smile, leaves the office. 

“I’m so fucked…” Jungeun takes a bite out of the cookie and heads into the Oval Office. 

The large presidential seal on the floor still takes her by surprise. As does the sight of her mom, who she’s seen in cut off jean shorts and dirt on her face, sitting behind the resolute desk in a firmly pressed pants suit with her senior staff standing around her. 

“You can’t be serious, Taeyeon,” Hyuna says standing beside her mom. 

“I am serious,” her mom stands from her seat, and looks at her Chief of Staff with a stern gaze. “Our friendship may have stretched over several decades, Hyuna, but in this office, in this building, you address me as Madame President or Ma’am.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Hyuna nods, “but you can’t seriously think this is a good idea.” 

“She’s right, Ma’am,” Joohyun, the Deputy Chief of Staff, says. “We can’t condone this friendship.”

“It doesn’t reflect well on the morals of the White House or your presidency, Ma’am,” Chungha, the Communication Director, adds. The Deputy Communications Director nods in agreement. 

“I’m not condoning anything,” her mom says. “She is an adult, she chooses her friendships. I don’t get to have a say in it, whether I like it or not.”

“They were just caught hugging at the woman’s record label. It was a well lit area, there were staff and secret service agents around. Your daughter followed protocol with the secret service and did not do anything indecent. Jungeun is smart, Ma’am, she wouldn’t get herself into a friendship with a person who is not a good influence,” the press secretary, Sera, says. 

“Thanks, Sera, you always look out for me,” Jungeun says walking into the room fully. She takes a bite out of her cookie. 

“Jungeun,” her mom walks over to her, hugging her tightly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“The journalist didn’t get in your face? I warned the press to not invade your personal space. But they’re vultures, what else do I expect from them,” Taeyeon fumes as she paces in front of her desk.

“Your staff is too, apparently,” Jungeun narrows her eyes at the staffers standing around. “I see we’re discussing my life again like it’s a political issue.”

“It is a political issue, Jungeun,” Hyuna says. 

“But it’s not when your daughter and Yerim are running around at frat parties with other politicians' kids?” Jungeun raises a brow. “Or is that the real reason, because Jinsol isn’t a politicians kid and she’s in a band instead?” 

“That’s not—” Chungha starts to say but Taeyeon holds her hand up to stop her. 

“Sera, handle the press, talk to Chungha and Jessica about the best way to communicate it,” Taeyeon demands. “Everyone else, get out of my office.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Madame President,” the senior staff all say before shuffling out of the Oval Office. 

“Ma’am?” Vivi pipes up from her spot by the door. 

“Vivi, what are you still doing here? I sent you home hours ago,” Taeyeon says, concern in her voice. 

“I had something to finish, but I’m heading out now. Is there anything you need before I go?” Vivi asks. 

“No, no, go. Have fun, relax.”

“Have a hot date with Jiwoo,” Jungeun teases hoping to get a rise out of the usual calm demeanor of the aide. But Vivi just smiles. 

“Jiwoo works overnight tonight,” Vivi says to Jungeun, then to Taeyeon, “Thank you Madame President. Have a good night.” Vivi ducks out of the room leaving Jungeun with her mom. 

“Jungie,” Taeyeon takes a seat, patting the spot next to her. “Sit with me for a minute.” 

Jungeun hesitantly sits down, “I’m...I’m not in trouble?”

“You heard me before, Sweetie. You’re an adult, you make your own friends. A little heads up to Sera would have been nice, but you know now. My anger wasn’t at you, it was at my staff. Their job is to have my best interest in mind, but mine is to have yours and Yerim’s in mind. I may be the President, but I’m a mother, too. This could cause some drama for a while, but it’ll blow over.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I just…” Jungeun sighs. “It was nice having something, someone, that wasn’t attached to the White House.”

“I know, Jungie, I know, but this is our life now. There are some things we can’t compromise on, and this is one of them,” Taeyeon pats her daughter’s knee gently. “The secret service gave me her file, and while I don’t think she’s the best company for you to be keeping, I trust you. But, do not let her distract you from your goals. You have a ten-year-plan, Jungeun. You’d do well to keep on track.”

Jungeun tries not to let the disgust at that idea show on her face. Tries not to tell her mom that the ten-year plan isn’t what she wants. That Jungeun agreed to only to make her mom happy. That the idea of following that path makes her sick to her stomach. It makes her want to run away and never come back because at least then she could live freely. But at what cost? The last thing Jungeun wants to do is disappoint her mom. She’s done so much to create a good life for Jungeun, to put her in a place where she could achieve anything she wanted. Yet it still seems like Jungeun is trapped in this path. 

Instead of saying any of that, Jungeun just nods, “I won’t, Mom, don’t worry.”

Taeyeon smiles softly, “That’s my girl. Now, tell me about this rockstar you’ve been spending time with.”

And just like that, the mere mention of Jinsol shifts Jungeun’s mood all over again. She blushes, “Her name is Jinsol and she’s so much more than people make her out to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in this chapter:   
> "How You Love Me Now" by Hey Monday   
> "For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic" by Paramore
> 
> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic 
> 
> here's a little birthday update for y'all. I admit this chapter may be intense. Mentions of cheating and alcohol abuse do appear. Read cautiously

**Chapter Six**

Jinsol’s not sure what she had been expecting when she got a text from Jungeun to meet her at the back exit of Eden Records. She _certainly_ had not been expecting Jiwoo to step out of a black SUV with tinted windows holding a pile of clothes. 

“Put these on, and come back,” Jiwoo had said sternly. Not wanting to get any further on her bad side, Jinsol quickly complies. At that moment, she had no idea why was being handed a black suit, a pair of sunglasses, and a fake in-ear mic. It should’ve, though, but it takes until she slides into the back seat of the car to click into place.

“Now you definitely look like a secret service agent,” Jungeun grins from the seat next to her. 

“Jungeun?” Jinsol takes the sunglasses off, “What the—” 

“I wanted to see you, and since the journalists in this city are fucking vultures,” Jungeun gestures to the suit Jinsol is now wearing. “It was Jiwoo’s idea.”

“To dress me like an agent?” Jinsol looks to the front seat where Jiwoo is sitting. 

“Don’t take this as a sign that I like you or anything,” Jiwoo turns in her seat, “because I don’t. Jungeun does, and if it keeps her from sneaking away from me, then I’ll do what I can for you to hang out without causing a scene.”

Jinsol tries not to let the smile appear on her face, but she can’t help it. “No, you like me.”

“I do not.” 

“Riight, okay,” Jinsol nods, her grin widening. “I’m growing on you, Jiwoo. Admit it.”

Jiwoo narrows her eyes, though a tiny smile plays at the corner of her mouth. “Over my dead body.”

The picture of Jungeun and Jinsol hugging had circulated through the news faster than Jinsol’s previous scandals did. Probably because Jungeun is so much more high-profile than two women in a punk band. It’s part of what Jinsol had feared about entertaining any kind of relationship with Jungen. But the woman is magnetic. No matter how hard Jinsol tries to put any kind of space between them, she can’t resist. 

So when Jungeun had texted her a few days ago to let her know that a story was about to break about them, Jinsol simply shrugged. What can she do? She’s used to journalists and reporters coming at her about her relationships, about her life. They scrutinize her every move. What she isn’t looking forward to is someone telling Jungeun about her past before she can. 

She had asked Jungeun that day to meet with her, but Jungeun had been busy with the District Attorney. Jinsol guesses today is the way Jungeun is going to make up for it. She just hopes no one has had the chance to tell her before Jinsol has. 

“I gotta say,” Jungeun leans into Jinsol’s side, “you look _great_ in a suit.” 

“Not a fan of my jeans and sweatshirt looks, are you?” Jinsol turns her head to look at Jungeun, who’s smiling up at her. 

“Oh, no, I love both, but this is a treat.” 

“You can almost mistake her for someone who _isn’t_ a hoodlum,” Jiwoo comments from the front. 

“I’ve been upgraded from dirty to a hoodlum, I really am growing on you,” Jinsol teases. Jiwoo doesn’t disagree. “Do you have something planned for us tonight or is this just in case?”

“Just in case,” Jungeun shrugs, “unless you have an idea.”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Jinsol leans toward Jiwoo and the driver, “Can you take us to the aquarium?” 

“It’s nearly eleven o’clock, the aquarium isn’t open,” Jiwoo knits her brows together. 

“One perk I have over the President’s daughter,” Jinsol settles back into her seat. “They’ll let us in, I promise.”

Jinsol is surprised that Jiwoo doesn’t argue and tells the driver to head in that direction. 

“Why the aquarium?” Jungeun finally asks as the car pulls out onto the road. 

“My parents were big ocean people,” Jinsol says, turning her attention back to Jungeun. “They studied marine conservation and were key researchers on the aquarium's staff. I basically grew up in that building.”

“Were?” 

“Oh, no, they didn’t die. They just retired, I guess?” Jinsol chuckles. “I started working there after they left, just to be able to stay around the animals.” 

“That’s sweet though, that you wanted to keep doing work like them. Are they happy where you ended up though?”

“As a lead singer in a band? I wouldn’t say they’re happy, they definitely had different plans for me. For a while they...we didn’t speak for a few reasons, but they’re proud of me now, of how far the six of us have come,” Jinsol smiles. “Anyway, I wanted to bring you there anyway, it’s one of my favorite places to be at night. No one is around, it’s quiet, and I think it would be safe for you to be there, too. Secret services can check it out and all that good stuff. And there shouldn’t be any reporters in there, not at night.” 

“You thought really hard about this,” Jungeun whispers in awe. 

Jinsol nods, “I just—I wanted alone time with you. As alone as we can get, anyway.”

Jungeun leans up, pressing a firm kiss to Jinsol’s cheek. “You may look like a badass, but you’re so fucking soft.”

“Shh, I have a reputation to uphold,” Jinsol jokes, turning to look out the window to hide her blush as they pull up to the aquarium’s back entrance. “Wait here, okay? Jiwoo, can you send some agents with me so they can clear it before Jungeun goes in?”

“I—” Jiwoo turns in her seat, “Yeah, okay.” She lifts her arm and speaks into the mic, “I need four bodies with Muse.” 

“Whoa, I have a codename?” Jinsol’s eyes widen, then a satisfied grin breaks out. “Rad. Okay, I’ll be right back!” 

Jinsol hops out of the car and walks with the other secret service agents toward the employees back entrance. She presses the call button on the keypad by the door and waits for the director's voice to come through the speaker. The director of the aquarium has been the same since Jinsol’s parents worked here, she had basically been like an aunt to her. 

“It’s late, who the fuck is out there?” The voice says. 

“Hello to you, Aunt Seulgi,” Jinsol laughs. 

“Jindori? Oh, my goodness, what are you doing here?” 

“Um...I kind of need a favor. You think you could let me and the President’s daughter come in for a few hours?” Jinsol blushes knowing exactly what Seulgi is going to say. 

“The _President’s daughter_? That’s definitely a step up from—” 

“Seulgi,” Jinsol pleads. 

“A few hours, no funny business.” 

The agents with Jinsol chuckle at her expense. 

“Seulgi! Stop, I’m sending in some secret service agents to secure the area, can you just unlock the door and stop embarrassing me?” Jinsol groans. There’s a click of the door unlatches and the agents nod to Jinsol and head inside.

“I hope she treats you better than the other girlfriend did,” Seulgi says sincerely. “I’d like to meet her another time, okay? And, please, come visit soon.”

Jinsol swallows the lump in her throat. “Thank you, I will.” She heads back to the SUV with Jungeun in it. 

Seulgi had really been a key reason why she started to pursue music full time. She even convinced her parents to let her try. It’s not that her parents are even controlling, but they really just wanted what they thought was best for her. They’re compassionate and understanding. They took Hyejoo in when her parents seemingly abandoned her. But they didn’t initially approve of their decision to be in a band for their jobs. 

It’s different now though. They support her and Hyejoo a lot. Always giving people their CDs and merch. It’s sweet. Jinsol tries not to dwell on the bad times. 

“Hey,” Jinsol opens the door to the SUV, “we should be good to go in a few minutes.”

Jungeun slides out toward Jinsol, who offers her a hand. Jiwoo and the other guard in the car come over and escort the two of them back to the door. By the time they reach it, Jiwoo gets the “all clear” from the agents inside the aquarium. 

Jinsol leads them through a series of back hallways and out into the main exhibit floor of the aquarium. Jungeun steps next to Jinsol, taking her by the hand nonchalantly. 

“We’re only gonna go to the Atlantic Coral Reef exhibit,” Jinsol tells Jiwoo before walking toward the exhibit. Jungeun and her remain quiet on their walk, well aware that the guards around them are still in close enough ear shot to hear what they’re saying. Jinsol hopes Jungeun isn’t worrying too much about how she’s going to react to being followed around by security. Sure, it’s not easy to get used to, but she knows it comes with being friends with Jungeun. 

Plus, Jinsol is almost certain every person on the secret service team knows about her past. Or, at least what the news had said about her. 

Jinsol leads Jungeun over to the bench near the tall windows that look into the coral reef exhibit. The concrete walls and floors of the exhibit are awash in a pale blue light, bringing an immediate ease to Jinsol. 

She glances over her shoulder once Jungeun sits down and sees all the agents, Jiwoo included, are standing across the room. Far enough away that they won’t hear them speak. 

Jinsol appreciates it. 

“I see why this is your favorite place,” Jungeun says, breaking their silence. “It’s pretty, and calming.” 

“I’ve spent an ungodly amount of time in this aquarium just thinking,” Jinsol admits, sliding closer to Jungeun, clasping their hands back together. They sit for a bit, watching the animals swim through the water. Letting the quiet hum of the aquarium fill the comfortable silence between them. 

“You said earlier your parents had different plans for you,” Jungeun asks, her eyes glued to the fish swimming in front of them. “What were they?”

“They wanted me to be like them,” Jinsol shrugs. She watches Jungeun’s face as another group of fish swim by, her eyes lighting up at the sight. Jinsol doesn’t miss the way her heart stutters in her chest. “Be a marine biologist, study conservation, and help save the coral reef. They had all these big plans for me, but as much as I love this—” Jinsol gestures in front of them—“I love music more.”

Jungeun bites her bottom lip, face contorting in thought. Jinsol tears her gaze away from Jungeun and instead watches the bonnethead sharks swim by. It’s tail moves side to side, propelling it forward and only ever forward. 

“How did you—” Jungeun takes a deep breath. She looks to Jinsol who meets her gaze, her eyes unfocused, stormy. “What made you decide not to follow the path they wanted you to?”

Jinsol looks at Jungeun, _really_ looks at her. Being the eldest daughter of the President probably comes with more than enough pressure to be perfect. And before that, Jinsol knew Taeyeon was a Congresswoman. That pressure had to have been there from the start. While Jinsol only had to listen to her parentings nagging her with their expectations, Jungeun has the whole country. 

“I decided that my life is too short to live for someone else, to live a life that I don’t want, to live in an image that someone else created of me.” Jinsol says it softly, with as much sincerity as she can muster. “It sounds so simple when I say it, but it took a lot of courage for me to tell my parents. I didn’t want to wake up one day and regret what I had done with my life. I didn’t want to wonder what it would have been like if I tried to pursue music. I wanted to say I tried, even if I failed, I wanted to be able to say that I _tried_.”

Jungeun falls silent and then nods with determination. She smiles up at Jinsol, “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” 

Heat crawls up Jinsol’s face, “Um, no…”

“I think you are.”

“First I’m soft, now I’m amazing?” Jinsol tilts her head, “Are you trying to flirt with me, Miss Kim?”

“I am flirting with you, and based on how red your face is, it’s working.” Jungeun’s gaze is unwavering, a teasing yet flirtaious glint in her eyes. Jinsol makes an inaudible noise and ducks her head. “I don't know how you have the world convinced you’re some kind of dangerous badass, I really don’t.”

And there it is. The opening Jinsol had been hoping would never come but knowing she needs to take it. She brought Jungeun here for a reason, well for a few reasons, the main one being to spend time with her, but the other? The other is going to be harder than singing any of the songs on their new album. 

Jinsol swallows thickly. “There’s a few reasons they think that….Actually, Jungeun, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“If you want to, if you’re ready to, I’ll listen,” Jungeun says carefully. Jinsol appreciates the sentiment. Not many people would have waited this longer to hear it. Curiosity killed the cat and all that. But Jungeun waited, waited for Jinsol to be ready to tell her. She waited to hear Jinsol’s story instead of listening to all the people who were telling her to run. 

Maybe she should have run. Maybe she’ll run now. But Jinsol wants to tell her, wants what they have to be deeper than it is now, and the only way to get there is to open up. Further than just singing songs in front of her about heartbreak and pain. 

“You’ve listened to our pre-release singles, heard snippets from the other songs from this upcoming album. I mean, you’ve heard plenty of them in full by now, too.” 

“Yeah, you sent me three more today,” Jungeun adds. 

“ _Voices_ , _Just Tonight_ , and _Coffee at Midnight_ …” Jinsol brushes her hair out of her face. She stands quickly, pulling the suit jacket off, and rolling up the sleeves of the white dress shirt. “They’re different than the ones you’ve heard before.”

“Not as angry, it’s a quieter hurt,” Jungeun whispers. “What are you trying to tell me?” 

Jinsol’s hand rubs over a tattoo on her inner left arm. A large heart design inked into her skin. Intricate lines loop and cross to fill the heart delicately. Jinsol still remembers the day she got this matching tattoo with— “Eunha. That’s who this album is about. What this album is about, really.”

“Solie, you really don’t have to tell me this,” Jungeun takes her hands in hers, holding them tightly. She waits for Jinsol to look at her, eyes already blurry, body jittering like she’s ready to run. “I don’t need to know who you were before, I know who you are _now_.” 

“We were in the news, Jungeun. We’re gonna keep being in the news and you’re gonna get questions and judgement and-and—” Jinsol takes one of her hands back, frantically searching the pocket of her pants until she comes up with the worn token. She runs her fingers over it, taking a deep breath. When she looks back at Jungeun, her eyes are more focused. “I want to be the one you hear this from, not some sleazy reporter on the street trying to get the next story. I really like you, and I want this to—to, I dunno, I want whatever’s been going on between us to go somewhere. But I need you to know this stuff first.”

Jungeun nods, “I’m here, I’m listening. Take as long as you need, okay?”

Jinsol takes another deep breath, eyes fixating on the token in her hand. She flips it over between her fingers. Again and again. Trying to find the best place to start. 

“Eunha was...she was my girlfriend. We met not long after Sooyoung, Haseul, Heejin, Hyejoo, Chaewon, and I started the band. Some of the songs we were writing didn’t feel right and we thought why not add a keyboardist,” Jinsol says, looking anywhere but Jungeun. The memories flood back into her mind. “She walked up to Haseul’s garage so confidently, told us she was gonna be the new keyboardist before she even played. She wasn’t wrong, but that’s just how she was. Confident, assertive, but she was also sweet. It didn’t take long for me to fall for her.

“We were together for four years when it all happened. On tour with our third album, too. Somewhere in New York City, I can’t remember where.” A shaky breath slips through her lips. “It was the last leg of the tour, only a few more shows down the east coast and we were done. I was—I was going to propose at the end of it.” 

* * *

_“No, no, you guys stay, have fun, I’m gonna go rest,” Jinsol told the rest of her band. Eunha pressed a kiss to her lips and told her she would come back to the hotel later. Jinsol didn’t think anything of it. After concerts, they usually found some bar to drink in and waste the night away before hitting the road the next day to sleep it off. But tonight, Jinsol’s throat felt sore, and she didn’t want to risk hurting it further and ruining the last of their shows._

_“I love you,” Jinsol whispered against her lips and Eunha kissed her again. Jinsol walked back to the hotel alone, crawled into the bed in the room she shared with Eunha, and fell asleep with the TV on in the background. She was used to the group staying out late. It wasn’t likely for Eunha to be back before two or three in the morning._

_What she didn’t expect was to wake up alone in bed the next day. There was no sign that Eunha had even come back at all. Jinsol checked. And she checked again. She finally had enough sense to call Sooyoung to see if she had seen Eunha at all since the night before._

_She also didn’t expect to see her notifications flooded with tags, texts, missed calls, and two pictures that will forever be burned into Jinsol’s mind._

_“Eunha, Keyboardist for Endless Cycle and long-time girlfriend of Jinsol, lead singer of the same band, caught leaving the club with an unnamed redhead,” Jinsol read outloud, her voice cracking toward the end. She didn’t want to believe it, not for one second, but there it was, clear as day. A photograph that showed Eunha’s face leading a woman out of the club, kissing the woman, going into a motel room with that woman._

_Jinsol felt sick. Her whole world crashed down around her. Everything she had planned for the future crumbled right in front of her face and she never saw it coming. Not for a single second did Jinsol ever think this could happen to her. She wanted to throw up, to scream, to cry._

_Instead, she saw red._

_She had never been so angry before. Not once in her life. But she was vibrating with rage, from her head right down to her feet. Jinsol moved through their hotel room like a hurricane, tossing everything and anything that reminded her of Eunha into her suitcases._

_Flinging open the door, Jinsol started to throw the bags out the door._

_“Thinks she can make a fool out of me,” Jinsol said as each bag gets tossed into the hotel hallway. “Cheats on me! Publicly! Who the fuck does she think she is?”_

_Guests started coming out of their rooms. They watched, eyes wide and mouths opened as Jinsol continued to throw Eunha’s belongings._

_“Jinsol, Jinsol, stop!” Eunha yelled as she came barreling down the hall. “Baby, please, stop let me explain!”_

_“Explain? What’s there to explain? How many times you_ fucked _her? Did you even think of me? Did you even care?” Jinsol screamed in her face. “Because clearly these last four years together have meant absolutely_ nothing _to you!”_

_Eunha glanced around the hallway, looking at all the cameras trained on them, “Baby, we should really talk about this in the room…” Eunha reached to touch her arm and Jinsol swatted her away._

_“Baby. Baby! Fuck you, don’t touch me. I loved you, I loved you more than anything and you just threw it away! For what? For some redhead with bedroom eyes? You’re a piece of shit.”_

_“Loved me?” Eunha whispered, though the anger rising in her eyes was enough for Jinsol to know she finally hit a nerve. “You love those bottles of alcohol more than you could ever love me. Day and night all you do is drink and drink. You think you’re better than me? You’re a drunk. A useless, no good,_ drunk! _It’s no wonder your parents stopped talking to you, they know just as well as I do that you’re nothing.”_

_Jinsol’s fist tightened at her side, jaw clenched with so much pressure her teeth ached._

_A voice down the hall loudly said, “Is she gonna hit her?” People started talking louder and louder, echoing the same thought._

_“Sol, go into your room,” Sooyoung’s voice broke through the noise. “Go in your room,_ now. _Eunha, get your shit, you’re leaving.”_

_“You can’t be serious,” Eunha gaped at Sooyoung._

_“I am. You’re out of the band and out of our lives. Get your fucking shit, and leave,” Sooyoung pushed Jinsol toward her room, and turned to keep an eye on Eunha._

_Jinsol stomped away, the question from the hallway echoed in her mind. She never would have laid a hand on Eunha. She never had laid a hand on anyone. That’s not who she was. But it didn’t matter, not to the news and not to the people watching as Jinsol stormed back into her room._

_To them, she was a drunk and it was only a matter of time before she snapped. They took the story and they ran with it._

_Jinsol finally snapped._

_The news circulated that story day in and day out. Jinsol was only thankful that the Presidential campaign news had been overpowering whatever shit storm her life had become._

_They cancelled the rest of the concerts. Went back home to DC and tried to find a way to get through this. Jinsol tried to find a way._

_And she did. She thought she did anyway. For her, the answer was at the end of any bottle of alcohol she came across._

_Jinsol spent nights at bars and days in her room drinking away. She barely remembered anything from that time. But she remembered the day Haseul found her. The day she told Haseul that she drank to drown._

_Drank to drown out the memories._

_Drank to drown out the voices of every person who spoke about her._

_Drank to drown herself._

_That day when Haseul walked her home and sat next to her while she threw up until her stomach was empty. That day when Heejin watched ‘Zootopia’ with her on repeat. That day when Sooyoung and Chaewon didn’t argue once, and fretted over her instead. That day when Hyejoo cried in her arms because she couldn’t stand the thought of losing Jinsol._

_That was the day Jinsol decided that she needed help._

_That was the day Jinsol decided to go to rehab._

_It was four weeks. A brutal four weeks. She spent most of her free time in the program writing lyrics. The only way she knew how to deal with her feelings was drinking, but she didn’t have that anymore. She filled the notebook she had with lyrics, trying to work out how she felt. Trying to find a way to move on and make peace with the things she had said and done._

_Jinsol came out with a 30 days sober chip and was met with open arms from Sooyoung, Haseul, Heejin, Chaewon, and Hyejoo. It had been a nice moment. To know that even at her lowest, they would still be there for her. Support her. Their name was dragged through the mud, they were admonished by fans online for still supporting Jinsol. But they knew the truth. They had been there the whole time. They_ knew _Jinsol._

_She made it two weeks outside of rehab before contacting Eunha. Jinsol needed to see her, to apologize for what happened. But she also wanted her back._

_All the days she spent in rehab she couldn’t stop thinking that maybe if she had stopped drinking sooner, Eunha wouldn’t have felt the need to cheat. If Jinsol had just given her more attention, more care, she would be marrying Eunha now. Not crawling back to her, asking for one night, just one night._

_“Just tonight, Eunha, please,” Jinsol begged over the phone. “I’m sober, I’m—I’m okay, I just want to see you. Apologize.”_

_Eunha sighed, “Okay, here’s my new address.”_

_Jinsol snuck out, ditched her friends without telling them a word of where she was going. She spent the night with Eunha. Relearning each other in every way imaginable. Jinsol felt on top of the world, like maybe they could get past this. Eunha could join the band again and tell the reporters that everything they had been saying about Jinsol was false._

_She should’ve known better than to hope._

_Jinsol woke up the next morning alone. And it felt all too familiar again. But instead of rage, Jinsol felt her heart shatter. Felt a lung tightening, stomach churning, eye burning heartbreak. She hadn’t felt it that day in the hotel, hadn’t felt it to this magnitude._

_The whole time, the past couple months, Jinsol believed it was all her fault. That she just needed to fix herself to be perfect for Eunha. But it wasn’t Jinsol. It wasn’t_ just _Jinsol. Eunha ruined them too. And the matching heart tattoo on her arm burned at the realization that the forever inked into her skin is a lie. It was all a fucking lie._

_She made it home in a daze. Didn’t even know how she got a bottle of whiskey, but she sat there on her bed in a room she once shared with Eunha, and drank herself into a stupor._

_Hyejoo found her like that. Bottle in one hand, broken picture frame in the other. She had entered Jinsol’s room with a smile, but the excitement of whatever she said died on her lips._

_“What the fuck are you doing?” Hyejoo shouted, snatching the bottle from Jinsol’s hand and putting it far away from her._

_“Drinking. Duh. Do you need to get your eyes checked?” Jinsol slurred. She tossed Hyejoo her recently received 60 day chip. “Some much for that, huh?”_

_“Jinsol…” Hyejoo said, anger disappearing from her voice. “What happened? You were doing good.”_

_Jinsol pauses, clumsily she hands Hyejoo the picture frame of her and Eunha. “I went to see her. She—we slept together. And she left me again.” Jinsol looked torned before laughing and crying. A strangled mix of both tumbled from her lips. Hyejoo dropped the picture frame and rushed to her side. “I’m so_ stupid _!_ _She didn’t love me enough then, why would I think she’d still love me now.”_

_“She’s a bitch.”_

_“Hyejoo,” Jinsol groaned._

_“No, she is. She didn’t need to let you come see her. She knew better, but you knew better too, Solie. You did. You’re an idiot to think that it could’ve ended any other way than it did,” Hyejoo said bluntly._

_“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” Jinsol weakly tried to push Hyejoo away, but the younger girl held firmly to her._

_“I will, I’m done coddling you. That clearly didn’t work. Eunha might’ve loved you once, but she doesn’t anymore. She made that clear when she cheated on you. You’re hurting and it sucks, and I know you think you’re all alone now and only alcohol is your friend, but you’re wrong.” Hyejoo made Jinsol look at her. “I won’t tell the others, but you need to get your shit together. I’ll help you.”_

_“What makes you think I can do it?”_

_“Because I believe in you, because I know you. Because I’m right here with you. You call me when you want to drink. When you feel like you're slipping. When you want company. You call me and I'll be there. No matter what, okay? You’ve always been there for me, ever since I was fifteen. You were there for me. Now it’s my turn to be here for you.”_

_Jinsol hadn’t been sure it would work. That she could keep doing this. Fighting this demon on her back that was whispering temptations into her ear whenever any emotion sparked within her. She knew it would never end. She knew everyday would be hard. But she listened to Hyejoo._

_Whenever she was slipping she called Hyejoo. Whenever she wanted to drink she called Hyejoo. Whenever she drank she called Hyejoo._

_Chaewon thought it would be a good idea to change apartments, to rid Jinsol of the ghosts that haunted her there. But it wasn’t just at home that Jinsol felt haunted. It was everyday, inside her bones, inside her mind. Eunha was there. Her demons were there._

_But so was Hyejoo._

_Jinsol slipped again. It had been a month, but she slipped again. She heard one of their old songs play on the radio and the sound of Eunha’s voice sent her into a spiral._

_Hyejoo walked into their room a day later, after Jinsol had slept off her hangover. Jinsol was sitting at her desk, lyric notebook open in front of her. Words scribbled in haste in front of her._

_Hyejoo dropped a gold painted token on the table._

_“What’s this?” Jinsol looked up at her confused._

_“It was a poker chip,” Hyejoo smiled. “Read it.”_

_“Twenty-four hours sober,” Jinsol knitted her brows together. “What—”_

_“It seems small, I know, but it’s a huge win. Every minute you don’t drink is a win, and I want you to be proud of that. No matter how small, it’s a win.” Hyejoo leaned against the wall next to Jinsol’s bed. “And it’s a reminder that I’ll be here for you for the next twenty-four hours. And the twenty-four hours after that. And—you get the point.”_

_“I—” Jinsol rubbed her thumb over the words. Tears spilled out of her eyes. “Thank you, Hye, I—this really means a lot to me.”_

_“I love you, now stop crying and come join us for game night,” Hyejoo pushed off the wall. She nodded to the book on the desk, “Maybe you can show us those lyrics one day, too.”_

_“I think I might,” Jinsol said, smiling genuinely for the first time in many months. It was a start. 24-hours sober. It was a start._

* * *

Jinsol is sobbing quietly as she finishes telling her story to Jungeun. She’s almost positive the woman is going to call Jiwoo over and leave her in the aquarium alone. But she’s shocked by the arms that snake around her waist, pulling her into Jungeun’s body. 

“You are not the monster you think you are, Jinsol,” Jungeun whispers, brushing Jinsol’s hair back. “And you’re not going to scare me away because of your past. You were hurt, you were angry, and rightfully so. But do not think for a second that I would be scared of you because of it. I’m not going to ask you to erase your past, or change who you were or are to make me comfortable. I _am_ comfortable with you. I know you, Jinsol. And knowing this, seeing how strong you are, how you’ve grown and owned your mistakes…”Jungeun pulls out of the embrace, wiping Jinsol’s tears with the pads of her thumbs. She smiles with so much care at Jinsol, “It makes me like you even more than I did before. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Thank you for listening,” Jinsol whispers. 

“Thank you for telling me.”

“No, I mean it, other people would have searched me up and made up their minds on their own, but you didn’t. You didn’t even consider it,” Jinsol flips the token in her hand again. “I’m different from who I was then, I don’t want to be that person again. I didn’t recognize myself. I don’t ever want to feel that way again, that helpless.”

Jungeun smiles softly, “Consider me another person you can call when you’re having a difficult time. I like you as you are, Jinsol. As you are, as you were. All of you.”

Jinsol rests her forehead against Jungeun’s, a million thoughts racing through her mind. She doesn’t know what she could have possibly done to deserve Jungeun to be in her life, especially now when she needed someone like her the most. But one thing is certain, Jinsol would do anything for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quoted or mentioned, but alluded to songs in this chapter:  
> "Voices" by Against The Current  
> "Just Tonight" by The Pretty Reckless  
> "Coffee at Midnight" by Stand Atlantic  
> "When It's Over" by Darling Parade  
> "My House" by PVRIS
> 
> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic.

**Chapter Seven**

It seems that ever since Jinsol opened up to Jungeun, a whole new world had been laid bare in front of her. Uncharted, unexplored, inviting her in to learn more about this mythos that the media had painted Jinsol as. And now—now Jungeun sees her. Truly sees Jinsol as she is, as she was. Perfectly Jinsol. Absolutely her. Nothing more than someone who lost their way and is trying to find herself again. 

Something Jungeun had never done for herself, but was starting to think that maybe she should. 

There’s a beauty in being lost. In wandering, and stumbling, and discovering. There’s even more beauty once they find what they’re looking for. Or so they say. So she hears. Jungeun wants that. She wants to find the beauty in her life again. That spark of joy, of light, that guides her to a happiness that overflows and spills all around her. A light that is inescapable, that doesn’t waver even on the bad days. She wants something that she will look at and think, “That’s it. That’s me.” 

Jinsol found that for herself. She fought for that. For her happiness, for her passion, for a life that she knew without a doubt she wanted. She chose music, a risk that could have failed. Jinsol put herself out on a limb without much reason other than her own belief in herself, in her band, that they would succeed. She had gotten lost somewhere along the way, but she never lost sight that light. It never wavered for her. 

It inspires Jungeun. Creates a hope in her that had long since diminished over the years. Over the Mayoral elections. Through the Congressional elections. Into the Presidential election. She followed a path, stepped in the same footprints her mother had created before her. But there is a path to the side. And it’s bright, and warm, and inviting, and Jungeun doesn’t know where it leads. But she wants it. She wants to take off her shoes and race barefoot toward a future that is so uncertain that it can only spark a strength in her, a resilience, a sureness in herself. 

But, for right now, for this moment in time, Jungeun stays in those footprints. She keeps on that path, if only because she’s not sure what exactly she wants. Or maybe that hesitance is fear holding her back. Jungeun’s not ready, but she will be. She will be. 

“You can’t possibly drink that,” Jinsol gapes at Jungeun’s coffee order. They’re standing at the pick up counter at a cafe, the afternoon sun coming through the large windows at the store front.

“Yes, I can,” Jungeun takes the cup and carries it over to a table in the corner. “It’s really simple, I don’t know if you tried it before, but you just bring the cup to your mouth, tilt it back a little, and drink. Very easy. Even babies can do it.” 

“Ass,” Jinsol rolls her eyes, a smile growing on her lips. “I meant it’s basically ten pounds of sugar, _how_ can you drink that?” 

“I’ve been asking her that question for years,” Jiwoo laughs as she walks up to their table. A few of the agents have regular day clothes on instead of their suits. Though there are few burly men in their suits standing around outside just in case. “I’ll be at the table behind you. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.” 

“Thanks, Wooming,” Jungeun says. It’s been easier, the past weeks to get along with Jiwoo. She’s found the line, Jungeun thinks, between being friends and her job. Plus, Jinsol had been right, Jiwoo is warming up to her. Slowly, but it’s happening. Jungeun’s even caught them having their own conversations when she steps away for a moment. 

Even if Jiwoo doesn’t like Jinsol, it’s clear she’s trying, and that’s enough for her. 

“Yeah, thanks, Wooming!” Jinsol smirks at Jiwoo. 

“Thin ice, Sol, very _very_ thin ice,” Jiwoo glares, but Jungeun can hear the playfulness in her voice. She pushes her friend away and turns back to Jinsol. 

“I can drink this,” Jungeun says, pulling their conversation back to where it started. 

“Okay, but you _shouldn’t_ drink that,” Jinsol lifts her cups. “Splash of milk, dash of sugar, that’s all you need.”

“If I’m a car! Your drink probably tastes like motor oil. I’m not drinking that.”

“You’re drinking the entirety of a candy factory in your coffee!” Jinsol says incredulously. 

“And it tastes fucking good,” Jungeun grins and takes a sip of her coffee. She lets out an exaggerated sigh of approval. “Delicious.”

“You’re not right, you’re not,” Jinsol shakes her head, but takes a sip of her drink without another word. 

Jungeun’s grin widens, taking another big gulp. 

“Seriously, _years_?” 

“Years.”

“How do you even have teeth left?” 

Jungeun holds her drink out to Jinsol, “It’s not as sweet as you think it is.” She shakes it tentatively, trying to entice her. Jinsol snatches it from her hand, rising to the bait. 

She takes a sip, her face scrunching up in disgust a second later. “What the fuck, Eun? That’s disgusting. I think I need emergency dental surgery.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Jungeun laughs and takes her drink back. She watches with pure adoration as Jinsol sticks her tongue out, like a dog that tasted something gross. Which, in her case, she had. 

Jinsol takes a big swing of her coffee. “My teeth hurt from how sweet that was. Holy shit.”

Jungeun pats Jinsol’s hand, “You’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“I drink this, like, everyday. You’ll be fine.” Jungeun’s teasing smile grows softer, “Thank you for coming out with me today.”

“You needed rescuing from another boring day in the White House,” Jinsol says, turning her hand over to hold Jungeun’s better. “Plus, I kinda missed you.” 

There’s no use in fighting the blush that appears on Jungeun’s face. “I, uh, yeah, I missed you, too.”

“It’s cute when you get all bashful,” Jinsol tilts her head, eyes shining. “This almost feels like a date.”

“If it weren’t for the six agents inside the building and another four outside, I’d agree with you,” Jungeun sighs. She glances around the room. There are a few other customers in the small coffee shop. They’re paying no mind to the few armed secret service agents standing guard. They don’t really seem to care at all that they’re there, and that’s a comfort to Jungeun. Most people don’t care for her existence unless they’re reporters or politicians trying to schmooze her to get the President’s ear. Still, it’s not the atmosphere she’d want for a first date. 

“Doesn’t make it any less of a date.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Jungeun says softly, staring back at Jinsol with the same amount of tenderness. “But I’d rather have a date where we’re both _aware_ that it’s a date.”

“You mean you want me to ask you on a date,” Jinsol teases. 

“Or I ask you.” Jungeun pauses. There’s a State Dinner coming up to honor the Prime Minister of Canada and her wife. It has been planned for months, and Jungeun knows asking anyone to change the guest list or seating will be impossible. But, Jungeun thinks she can convince her mom to at least let her invite Jinsol for the cocktail hour. And maybe, they could have a date in the garden, something simple and at least it will be guarded. There won’t need to be so many secret service agents watching them. Plus, there are several Marines stationed at the White house. They’ll be plenty safe. 

“Are you planning on asking me?” Jinsol leans back in her seat, lifting the front legs of the chair off the floor. She raises an eyebrow with a grin. 

“Not if you’re gonna be smug about it.” 

“I’m not, there is not an ounce of smug.” 

Jungeun rolls her eyes, “I have to do this State Dinner for my mom, but I want you to be there with me. As my guest. And I’ll plan a little getaway date for later that night.” 

Jinsol’s eyes widen. The chair legs hit the floor loudly. A few heads whip in their direction. “You want _me_ to go to an event at _the White House_. With the President. Your mom.”

“I think that was pretty clear, yeah,” Jungeun laughs, but she picks at the lid of her coffee cup. “Only if you want, you can bring Hyejoo if it’ll be easier for you. I know Yerim is dying to see her again. Those two talk all day and night.” 

“The White House,” Jinsol repeats again. She blinks rapidly, like she’s waiting for Jungeun to say sike. “Me and Hyejoo, two people who have no social or political status.” 

“You’re in a band, a _famous_ band I might add.”

“Famous to the degenerates and weirdos! Not to the—the President of the United States, or the Speaker of the House, or—or the Chief Justice, or any of the eight Associate Justices! They have _no idea_ who we are.”

“Clearly you know who they are.” 

“Well, duh! Jungeun, I—this is way out of my league. You don’t want me there,” Jinsol says, desperately looking at Jungeun. 

Jungeun watches her for a moment. It doesn’t take her more than that to realize it’s not the amount of powerful people in the room that scares her. It’s not that there are going to be a large number of people who look down at her in that room. None of that is what Jinsol is worrying about. Jungeun can see it on Jinsol’s face. Can see clear as day as Jinsol searches Jungeun’s eyes for any sign that what she’s asking isn’t what she wants. But for once, this is exactly what she wants and she knows it. 

“I want you there, as long as you want to be there.” Jungeun lays a soothing hand over Jinsol’s. “I want you there to make fun of drunk government officials and sneak away when no one is looking.”

“You mean that?” 

“I do. Say you’ll come with me.” 

Jinsol takes a deep breath, then nods. “I will. I’ll come. You’ll have the hottest date in the room.” 

“And don’t I know it,” Jungeun smiles. 

“Jungeun,” Jiwoo says, leaning back in her seat to look at Jungeun, “time to go. You have that meeting with—”

“The District Attorney, I know,” Jungeun sighs. She stands and holds her hand out to Jinsol, who readily takes it. Jungeun leans up and kisses Jinsol on the cheek, dangerously close to her lips. Her heart thrums rapidly in her chest at the thought. “Thank you, Jinsol.”

“For what?” 

“For today, for making me feel like I’m more than the President’s daughter.” 

“You’re so much more than that,” Jinsol smiles so delicately. So carefully, with so much more hidden within her eyes, Jungeun thinks she might break. She doesn’t know what to call the feeling she has, or the emotion in Jinsol’s expression, but she likes it. Jungeun doesn’t want it to go away. 

“Jungeun,” Jiwoo says again, holding the door open, ushering them outside. They toss their drinks out into the trash on their way out of the coffee shop. 

The moment they step out onto the sidewalk, they’re surrounded by flashing lights and questions. Jinsol wraps her arm around Jungeun’s waist, guiding her toward the car. Jiwoo stays on her other side, blocking the reporters and doing her best to protect Jungeun. 

“Miss Kim! Are you and Jinsol dating?” 

“Jungeun, Jungeun! Is Jinsol still drinking? Does dating someone with such a violent past have an effect on your relationship?” 

“Does the President approve of your relationship with an alcoholic? What’s the President’s stance on alcohol and drug policy?” 

“Miss Kim, has Miss Jung ever laid a hand on you?” One report shouts louder than all the others and Jungeun stops in her tracks. All the questions. All the ones that they shout every time, but today this one makes her blood boil. 

Jinsol who cried when they watched her Aunt Seulgi and her team release the rehabilitated seals back into the ocean.

Jinsol who has to watch horror movies with the lights on. 

Jinsol who holds her so delicately, who speaks to her so gently. 

Jinsol who showers her so effortlessly in affection and care. 

Jinsol who has had such a difficult past, who has been painted a bad guy for a story she never got to properly tell. 

It pushes Jungeun over the edge, and she knows damn well the moment she speaks Sera is going to call her. But Jungeun can’t sit by while Jinsol is being attacked, she won’t. Jinsol teases her, jokes with her, lets her know that she is a _person_ before anything else. Jinsol wouldn’t hesitate to protect Jungeun. 

“Go to hell!” Jungeun yells at the reporters. She pulls out of Jinsol’s grasp easily, taking her by surprise. “You don’t know a damn thing about Jinsol or me for that matter. Say one more bad thing about her and I swear to—” 

“That’s enough,” Jiwoo steps in front of Jungeun. “Get in the car.”

“No. They—” 

“They have their story, and you’re giving them more, get in the car.” Jiwoo stares down Jungeun. 

Jinsol steps up beside her, taking Jungeun gently by the hand. “Come get in the car with me, Eun.” 

Jungeun turns her gaze to Jinsol and her anger melts. “Fine, they aren’t worth my breath anyway.”

She climbs into the car with Jinsol right behind her. They settle in together, finding comfort in the other’s touch. Jungeun tries not to panic as she realizes that she’s going to be the latest news. Jinsol holds her hand tightly, brushing her thumb over the back of her hand in a slow pattern. 

Jungeun’s been through this enough, been around long enough to know that when anything happens with the press, anything she does that can be misconstrued, there’s one call she always has to make first. And it’s to the Press Secretary. 

“I need to call Sera,” Jungeun sighs. 

* * *

“You said _what_?” Sera gapes at Jungeun from behind her desk. She had told Jungeun to come to her office straight away, not giving Jungeun a chance to really explain what happened. All Jungeun could get out was that she said something stupid to the press. It was enough for Sera to be pretty curt with her. 

Jungeun shifts uneasily in her seat, missing the comfort of Jinsol beside her. They had dropped her off at Eden Records to meet the band after Jungeun ended the call with a promise to call her later. Jinsol hadn’t been happy with the idea of letting Jungeun going to deal with alone, wanting to explain to Sera that the reporter had been way out of line. But Jungeun insisted. She can fight this one alone. 

“I told them to go to hell,” Jungeun shrugs. “And I was gonna threaten their lives but Jiwoo cut me off.”

Sera sags in her seat, “Thank god for her. You can’t be running your mouth off to the press, Jungeun. It’s—”

“Only going to cause trouble for the President,” Jungeun finishes the sentence with a defeated sigh. “I know, I just—they say awful things about her, Sera. Jinsol isn’t—They don’t have the story right. They don’t know the truth and I can’t just stand there and listen to them say all that shit.”

Sera stands up and moves to the front to lean on it. She regards Jungeun carefully, “You can stand up for your girlfriend all you want, but you need to do it politely, diplomatically, and in a way that isn’t going to come back to bite us in the ass later on.” 

“I got mad.” 

“I know.” 

“I’ll be more careful.” 

“I know,” Sera smiles. 

Jungeun stands up and shakes Sera’s hand. As she leaves the office, she pauses by the door. “She’s not my girlfriend, by the way.”

“Sure seems like it,” Sera teases. “Have a good day, Jungeun. Thanks for calling me right away.” 

Jungeun doesn’t bother fighting it. A blush burns her face as she walks through the bullpen of the press secretaries office. The West Wing is always busy. People running by, shouting for a different Senator or White House Counsel. Jungeun can’t keep up with all the people that work there. It’d be impossible. She’s not sure how anyone in the building knows _everyone_ , but they certainly do. 

But none of that really stays in her mind as she walks toward the back of the West Wing toward the Oval Office. What really sticks out in her mind is the idea of calling Jinsol her girlfriend. 

They haven’t even been on a date. Haven’t even thought to put a label on something that’s so new, but also so risky. Dating Jinsol feels risky. Not because of her past, but because of Jungeun’s present. And her future for that matter. 

She isn't going to lie though. The thought of Jinsol being more than someone she sees casually. Someone that’s more than good morning and goodnight texts. Jungeun wants something more and it makes her heart race faster than anything else she’s faced before. It could be good or bad, she has no idea, but she has to try, right?

And that starts with convincing her mom to let her invite Jinsol to the State Dinner. 

Well, actually, it starts with getting Yerim on board. _Then_ they have to convince their mom to invite Jinsol and Hyejoo. 

* * *

Yerim and Jungeun walk into the secretaries office attached to the Oval Office. Vivi looks up to greet them. 

“Does our mom have a free minute?” Jungeun asks. 

“Hi, Vivi. How are you, Vivi? I’m great, thanks for asking, Jungeun,” Vivi says, glancing back down at the stack of papers in front of her. 

Jungeun rolls her eyes, “Hi, Vi, how are you?” 

“It doesn’t mean as much now that I had to coax it out of you,” Vivi shuffles the papers loudly into order. 

Yerim smiles and offers Vivi some popcorn she grabbed from the cafeteria in the West Wing. “You alright, Vivi?” 

Vivi takes a few pieces and smiles back at Yerim. “I am. It’s just another busy day here.” She turns to Jungeun with a glare, “This is why she’s the favorite.”

“Not news to me,” Jungeun sighs. “Does she have some time for us?”

“The President has five minutes free, then she’s got another appointment. Make it fast.” Vivi waves them off. “Yerim, leave the popcorn.” 

Yerim pouts, but hands it over to Vivi who happily eats it. 

“Isn’t it lovely how we have to schedule time to see our mom?” Jungeun comments to Yerim as they walk up to the door. She knocks on the door a few times and peaks her head into the office. Her mom sits at her desk talking with Hyuna, she waves the two of them into the office as they continue to talk. 

“And they’re right in the path of the storm?” Taeyeon sets her pen down, looking at Hyuna, expression grim. 

“Yes, Ma’am. We’re tracking the storm and the ships crew is attempting to move out of it’s path, but—”

“It’s a storm, there’s only so fast a ship can go to out run it.” Taeyeon sighs, almost defeated. She nods solemnly. “Okay, keep me updated.” 

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Madam President.” Hyuna turns to head back to her office, greeting Jungeun and Yerim on her way out, “Hey, kids.” 

Taeyeon forces a smile as she walks over to her daughters, hugging them both tightly and kissing them on the head.

“You okay, Mom?” Jungeun asks when she finally lets them go. Taeyeon let’s her shoulders fall, her presidential demeanor melting away, if only for a moment. 

“I might have to make a few difficult phone calls to families soon. I’m just thankful to have you both close and know you’re okay,” Taeyeon regards them both gently. 

Yerim and Jungeun exchange hesitant glances, but don’t say anything. Letting their mom have a moment to herself. 

“Anyway,” Taeyeon shakes her head, a smile sliding back on, “what do you two need?”

Jungeun and Yerim take a seat on the ugly couch, silently arguing who should start the conversation. Sure, it was Jungeun’s idea, but Yerim is supposed to be her secret cute weapon to wear down their mom. 

“You see, the State Dinner is in a week, and I was wondering if—” Jungeun stops seeing her mom holding her hand up. 

“I can’t get your girlfriends on the guest list. It’s been locked for months, we just finished the seating arrangements this morning,” Taeyeon sits in the chair adjacent to them, leaning on her knees to look at the both of them carefully. “As much as I want the both of you to be happy and comfortable that night, it’s just not possible to change the seats.” 

“We’re not asking for them to be at the _dinner_ ,” Yerim says with a megawatt smile. 

“They’re also not our girlfriends,” Jungeun frowns. 

“Well, speak for yourself,” Yerim casts a bashful look at her sister. “Unlike you, I’ve got game.” 

“Game? You spent the first day you met her making googly eyes and drooling,” Jungeun throws her hands up in the air. “Seriously, when did this happen?” 

“You went on your little ‘not-a-date’ this afternoon, I asked her.” Yerim shrugs, “That’s not the point.”

“Yes, I was wondering when we were getting back to that,” Taeyeon leans back in her seat, crossing her legs. 

Jungeun is surprised she didn’t jump on Yerim for having a girlfriend, especially since she’s in the same band as Jinsol. And why, for that matter, Jungeun had been grilled more about her relationship to Jinsol than Yerim had with Hyejoo. 

Well, actually, Jungeun knows. She knows it has everything to do with the fabricated lies that the public made up about Jinsol. But still, it leaves a sour taste in Jungeun’s mouth that her mom treats them so differently. 

“We just want Jinsol and Hyejoo to have an invite into the cocktail hour. No seat at the dinner, no need to change the seating arrangements, and we’ll be out of your hair the moment they call dinner,” Yerim finishes and claps her hands. “Easy-peasy.”

“And how do you think it would look that my daughters aren’t there with me at the dinner?” 

“Yerim hasn’t been to the last three State Dinners,” Jungeun points out. “And the press is always writing about how bored I look.” 

“Maybe stop looking bored,” her mom suggests teasingly. 

“Not possible, you sit through those stupid toasts too, it’s _dreadful_. Come on, Mom, please.” Jungeun scoots closer to Yerim. They clutch their hands together and pout at their mom, using their joint power of cuteness to make her cave. 

“Pretty please?” They plead. 

“Enough, that’s not going to work! You’re not little kids anymore,” Taeyeon says, but she keeps watching them pout. “Damn it. Fine. I’ll add them to the list for cocktail hour.”

“Yes!” Yerim and Jungeun jump up and high-five each other. 

“On one condition.” They turn to their mom, their celebration halting. “I get to meet them and ask a few questions.” 

“Mom,” Jungeun groans, “please don’t, you’re going to embarrass us.”

“I have a right to know who my daughters are dating,” Taeyeon smiles. 

A knock sounds at the door and Vivi pokes her head in, “Ma’am.”

“Right, yes. I have to go, but I will see that their names are added to the list. Leave their full names with Vivi on your way out. I love you both.” 

Taeyeon drops a kiss on both of their heads before grabbing a folder off her desk and dashing out the back door of the Oval Office. 

“Love you, too,” Yerim mutters, watching her mom walk away. Jungeun’s used to this. To the quick conversations and abrupt halts. She’s been in the White House with their mom since the beginning while Yerim’s been at school. Yerim gets those long phone calls and facetimes at the end of the day. But now that she’s home, she’s seeing the side of things Jungeun has been getting for over a year. 

An apparition that they so rarely recognize as their mom. 

Jungeun slings her arm around Yerim’s shoulders as they walk out of the Oval Office, “So, tell me how you managed to ask Hyejoo to be your girlfriend.” 

“Okay, well, I didn’t _technically_ ask her,” Yerim blushes. 

Jungeun stops in the middle of the hallway. “You got nervous and shouted it at her, didn’t you?” 

Yerim’s face gets redder, “I wouldn’t say shouted…”

Jungeun can’t contain her laughter. “She must like you a lot if she still said yes.”

“At least I had the guts to ask!” Yerim pushes her sister, but there’s a smile on her face. And after seeing how sad she looked when their mom just left them that easily, it’s more than enough for Jungeun. 

“Shouted, you _shouted_ , not asked,” Jungeun continues to laugh and walks off down the hallway. “Text your little friends, have them meet us for ice cream in the residence. I need to tease you about this with more people.” 

Yerim pouts, but texts Hyunjin and Yeojin anyway. 

* * *

A week later, Jungeun stands in the middle of the East Room of the White House. Jungeun anxiously smooths her dress for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. She shouldn’t be counting, it’s definitely not helping calm her nerves. Beside her, Yerim snags a glass of champagne off a passing tray and hands it to her. 

“You need to relax,” Yerim says. “You look stunning, and I’m sure Jinsol is going to think the same thing.”

Jungeun drinks half the glass and sighs. She didn’t even pick the dress out, Yerim did. A black one-shoulder dress with a red accent that almost creates a marbling effect. A modest slit in the dress shows some leg, and lets the dress flow behind her as she walks. Jungeun is more than confident that she looks great, that’s not what’s worrying her. 

She turns to her sister, who’s wearing a lilac halter dress cinched at the waist by a belt, and finishes the last of the champagne in her glass. “I don’t care how I look right now, I’m worried that she’s going to be uncomfortable here.”

Yerim laughs, “She will be.”

“How reassuring,” Jungeun rolls her eyes. 

“Jungie, neither of us are comfortable. No one here can possibly be comfortable, especially if they don’t come from this—” Yerim gestures around them. At the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. At the small stage in the center of the sidewall of the room. At the cater-waiters in suits and white gloves. “Jinsol and Hyejoo aren’t going to be comfortable, but they’ll have us and we’ll have them.” 

“Are you not freaking out?” 

“No, I am, but I have a better poker face than you,” Yerim grins.   
“It’s not a poker face if you’re always smiling, Yerimie.” Jungeun laughs when her sister pushes her a little. The people around them step back as Jungeun stumbles into their space. She smiles sheepishly and apologizes, greeting them with firm handshakes and a polite smile. Just like her mom taught her. She shoots a glare over her shoulder at Yerim who’s giggling into her hand. “Yes, it’s lovely to see you again Senator Kang.” 

Yerim comes by and takes her sister away by the elbow, excuses her from the group of Senators that had gathered around her. “You can thank me for saving you later.”

“You’re the reason I got stuck there in the first place,” Jungeun glares at her. Glancing around the room, Jungeun tries to spot to see if Jinsol and Hyejoo have arrived yet, when she realizes someone else is missing. “Where’s mom?”

“Hyuna pulled her back to the West Wing to deal with something, I’m sure she’ll be back in time to interrogate Hyejoo and Jinsol.”

“Great, well, I guess all we can do now is—holy shit,” Jungeun’s draw drops, eyes widening as they zone in on the tattooed woman that just walked through the doors to the East Room. 

“I—Yeah, that covers it,” Yerim whispers next to her. 

Jinsol stands beside Hyejoo, both looking around the room before they spot Jungeun and Yerim. A smile breaks out on both of their faces. Jinsol walks toward them first, gliding through the crowd that parts with shock and awe. Her body wrapped in a deep-blue silk gown, a matching shawl draped around her back and over her elbows. Tattoos visible for everyone to see, crawling up her arms and over her shoulders. Ones on her collarbone disappear under the top of her dress. Jinsol has every eye on her in the room, but she is only focused on Jungeun. And Jungeun is absolutely speechless. 

Based on the silence beside her, Jungeun has a feeling Yerim is feeling the same way about Hyejoo. Her dress is similar to Jinsol’s, but in a grey material. What shocks Jungeun the most, and by the gasp Yerim actually lets out, is the scattered tattoos on Hyejoo’s shoulders and collarbones that neither had seen before. 

“Hi,” Jungeun whispers when Jinsol finally reaches her. Jinsol bends down a little, pressing a barely there kiss to her cheek. Her eyes sparkle when she pulls back, a smile growing on her face. 

“You look gorgeous,” Jinsol says. They’re locked in each other’s eyes, unaware that the guests around them are still watching, still gossiping among themselves. But they don’t care. Not right now. Not when they’re with each other. No one else matters. 

“You weren’t lying, I do have the hottest date here,” Jungeun smiles, a blush covering her face. 

“Excuse me, _I_ have the hottest date,” Yerim says, breaking their bubble. Her and Hyejoo stand next to them, hands intertwined already. “She cleans up nice.”

“Hi, Hye,” Jungeun hugs the younger woman. “I didn’t know you had any tattoos.”

Hyejoo hugs her back with one arm and just laughs, “I usually don’t show them off like Jinsol does. It was a little unavoidable tonight, though.”

“Did you have any trouble getting in?” Jungeun asks. 

“No, actually, Jiwoo was waiting for us,” Jinsol points over her shoulder to the guard who stands at the edge of the room. Jiwoo nods curtly and goes back to scanning the room. “They would’ve given us shit if Jiwoo had not been there. We definitely stand out in this crowd,” Jinsol shifts on her feet, nervously glancing around the room at all the politicians.

Jungeun won’t lie, they really don’t fit in here, but there’s something so appealing about that. Jinsol is unlike anyone she’s ever met. She’s been stuck in this white collared scene since she was a kid, she’s only ever known politicians kids and they’ve never understood her. Never cared to know her the way Jinsol has taken the time to. 

So maybe Jinsol sticks out, but so does Jungeun. 

Jungeun takes Jinsol by the hand, squeezing reassuringly. “You do, but at least you look good doing it.” 

“So, is this where you have all your parties?” Hyejoo asks. 

“Sometimes,” Yerim says. “Or they’re in another building, or the Rose Garden, or...honestly any room. It really depends on the event.” 

Hyejoo smirks, “You have no idea, do you?” 

Jungeun laughs at her sister's expense, “No, she has no clue. And before you ask, neither do I. I don’t spend much time memorizing the rooms.” 

“Does that mean a tour is out of the question?” Jinsol leans down and whispers to Jungeun. 

At that moment, her mom walks back through the doors into the East Room. People begin to clap as she approaches the Canadian Prime Minister and her wife. They shake hands, take a few pictures, and have a brief conversation before Taeyeon feels her daughters gaze on her. She smiles at Jungeun, waving her hand and signaling to wait a moment. 

“Well first you have to meet my mother,” Jungeun says back. She feels Jinsol tighten her grip on her hand. “You have about two minutes to be ready.” 

“Two minutes?” Jinsol squeaks. 

“It’ll be fine, just be honest, she can’t stand liars. Well, none of us can, but that’s not the point. Really, just be yourself. Sol,” Jungeun tries to reassure her but Hyejoo barks out a loud laugh. 

“Oh, yeah, that’ll go well.” 

“Shut up, Hye. How are you not worried?” 

Hyejoo shrugs, and smiles at Yerim, “Parents love me, plus, I don’t have a dark past to worry about.” 

Jinsol narrows her eyes at her friend, “You suck. I’m locking out of our room tonight, you can sleep in the hallway for all I care.” Hyejoo just laughs, no doubt knowing Jinsol won’t follow through. 

“Just be you, she’s like any other parent,” Jungeun holds tighter to Jinsol’s hand, letting her know she can lean on her, that it’s going to be okay. 

Before anyone can make a comment, her mom appears next to the group, stepping between her daughter. She holds herself with so much power, commanding the attention of everyone in the room even when she’s not in their immediate presence. Jungeun and Yerim both stand a little taller with their mom next to them. 

“Girls,” Taeyeon kisses them both on the head, “are these your girlfriends?” 

Jungeun doesn’t bother to correct her this time. “Mom, this is Jinsol.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am,” Jinsol says, her voice surprisingly calm. She reaches out and shakes Taeyeon’s hand. 

“And this is Hyejoo,” Yerim says, directing the attention away from Jinsol. 

“It’s an honor and a pleasure, Madame President,” Hyejoo shakes her hand. 

Taeyeon smiles at Jinsol and Hyejoo. A smile Jungeun hasn’t actually seen in a very long time. It’s not the one she sends to the crowds of people after a speech. Or to the cameras at a press conference. It’s certainly not the one she gives the visiting diplomats. This one is genuinely happy, peaceful. 

“I must say I’m surprised at how well you both clean up. I’ve seen some of your concert footage, I did not think you had it in you,” Taeyeon teases. 

“Believe me, I was tempted to show up in jeans, but I wanted to look my best for Jungeun,” Jinsol smiles. And that smile widens when Taeyeon lets out a pleased laugh. 

“If only we could wear ripped jeans and t-shirts to these kinds of events, I think we would all be more comfortable.” 

“You’ve watched our videos, Ma’am?” Hyejoo asks. Even Jungeun and Yerim had no idea that their mom had looked into the band at all. She had never said a word to them about it. 

“Of course, I had to see who my daughters are acquainting themselves with,” Taeyeon fixes her gaze on Jinsol. Jungeun can feel her stiffen beside her. She tries to soothe her the best she can with soft caresses on her arm. 

“Mom—” 

“Jinsol, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jinsol swallows audibly. 

“I have read plenty about your past, and much like my daughter, it’s not my place to pass judgement. You have made her very happy, and that’s all that matters to me,” Taeyeon says with ease. She looks toward Hyejoo, “The same goes for you, Hyejoo. You have made Yerim even happier, and I’m not sure any of us thought her smile could get any bigger. I don’t care about your tattoos, which are all beautiful by the way, or your music, or your past. As long as you continue to treat my daughter’s as they deserve to be, as long as you make them happy, and don’t get in the way of their goals, then you are welcome here.” 

Jungeun and Yerim lean forward, sparing confused glances at each other. They look back toward Jinsol and Hyejoo who are both standing with red faces and pleased smiles. 

Jungeun tries to ignore the twist in her gut at the mention of her future, but she does her best to push it back, to enjoy this rare moment with her mom. 

“Of course, Ma’am, the last thing Hyejoo or I want to do is hurt your daughters,” Jinsol says. 

“Good, and just know,” Taeyeon steps forward—Jungeun and Yerim know what’s coming next— “I am the President of the United States, I am the Commander in Chief. I have the power to control the entire armed forces of this country, if you so much as make my girls cry, I will not hesitate to abuse my power. Understood?” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Hyejoo and Jinsol both say quickly, paling at the prospect. 

“Perfect, I have to go make my rounds,” Taeyeon smiles politely, ready to excuse herself. 

“Wait, Mom,” Yerim grabs her mom’s arm. “Why hasn’t there been any music? I thought the staff hired that pianist or something?” 

Taeyeon groans, “On top of the issue with the ship in the storm's path, and the legislation we can’t seem to push through the senate, our pianist is also stuck in traffic for the next hour. Granted, that comes nowhere near being worse than anything else I mentioned, it’s just icing on the cake.” 

“Doesn’t the Prime Minister love classical piano music?” Jungeun asks, brows furrowing. 

“She does, it’s unfortunate, I was hoping to use it as a thoughtful gesture,” Taeyeon frowns, “Things happen, we can’t control everything in life.”

Jungeun looks at Jinsol who’s staring at the grand piano sitting on the stage in the middle of the room. They had talked about it before, how Jinsol learned how to play piano in the first place. Eunha had only joined the band because they wanted a keyboardist, and clearly Jinsol had taken that position in the group. But Jungeun doesn’t dare force Jinsol in that position to have to play in front of a crowd of over a hundred politicians and delegates that look at her like she’s the gum on the bottom of their shoes. 

“When will the pianist get here?” Jinsol asks, surprising Jungeun and Hyejoo. 

“Oh, um, I believe within the hour, that’s what Vivi told me anyway,” Taeyeon says. 

“I can play until then.” 

“Jinsol, that’s very kind but I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“You’re not asking, Ma’am, I’m offering,” Jinsol smiles, but Jungeun can see through it. See the nerves that make the corners of her lips twitch. “I know a handful of classical pieces.”

Taeyeon tilts her head, smiling with her eyes, “You’re not just trying to get on my good side are you?”

“I absolutely am, Ma’am. Is it working?” Jinsol grins. 

“Perhaps,” Taeyeon laughs. “If you would like to, I won’t stop you. Enjoy your night, it was lovely to meet you both. I look forward to seeing you again.” Taeyeon kisses both her daughter’s on the head again and walks off into the crowd. 

Both Hyejoo and Jinsol relax the moment Taeyeon is out of ear shot. 

“She loved you both,” Yerim claps excitedly. “And on that note, I’m going to give Hyejoo a tour and get away from this stuffy cocktail hour.” 

Hyejoo stops Yerim from leading her away to say something to Jinsol. They have a brief conversation in whispers before Hyejoo nods and walks away with Yerim. They both wave over their shoulders at Jinsol and Jungeun before they leave the East Room. 

“Hye wanted to make sure I was good and that if I needed her to text her,” Jinsol says unprompted. 

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“No, but I wanted you to. She doesn’t want me to resort to drinking because I’m nervous, but I told her I have you. You keep me calm, Jungeun.” 

Jungeun looks away bashfully, “Well, I’ll be beside you all night. Were you serious about playing the piano?”

“Yeah, I want to help, and prove to these people that I’m not what they think I am,” Jinsol shrugs. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to them, but I understand,” Jungeun takes her hand. “Let’s show them what you got.” 

Jungeun guides Jinsol through the crowd of people toward the stage. People glance at them curiously, wondering, no doubt, what on earth this tattooed woman is going to do. Jungeun is ready for Jinsol to blow their minds. To shut them up. Jinsol doesn’t need to fit in here, doesn’t need anyone’s approval, but Jungeun can see that this is a point Jinsol wants to prove. And it’s not going to stand in her way. She’ll stand beside her though. 

“Excuse me,” Jungeun says into the microphone on the stage, grabbing the attention of the guests in the room. The murmurs from conversations halt as all eyes turn toward her. She plasters on her best smile. “Good evening, I’m sure some of you know me, but I’m Jungeun Kim, the President’s daughter. The President had arranged for a pianist to come and play music for this evening, however they are still stuck in traffic. But, you’re all in for a treat, because tonight we are lucky enough to have a famous musician with us who has graciously agreed to play until the pianist arrives. I’d like to introduce my—someone who is very dear to me, Jinsol Jung.” 

Jinsol sits at the piano bench and waves with a genial smile. 

“Feel free to continue to mingle amongst yourselves as she plays, but I don’t have any doubts that your eyes will be glued to her,” Jungeun looks over her shoulder at winks at Jinsol who simply shakes her head. “Thank you, and enjoy.” 

Jungeun hops down from the stage and stands front and center to watch. Jinsol stretches her arms out, flexing her fingers, before gently laying them on the keys. She takes a deep breath and presses the first note. The music fills the room, the quiet chatter that had begun dying out immediately. Just like Jungeun had said, all eyes are on Jinsol as she pours her all into every note of the song. 

In the time that they’ve known each other, the few months that they’ve spent getting closer, Jungeun has only ever seen Jinsol sing. There was that one brief moment the night they first met where she saw her playing the keyboard, but not once since then. It’s an experience in and of itself to witness the raw emotion that Jinsol exudes when she sings. Watching her play the piano is something else entirely. 

It’s mesmerizing. 

Jungeun is enraptured, enthralled with the sight and sound. She feels herself falling even further with no intention of stopping. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic
> 
> TW // it's very brief in this, but mentions of allegations of physically abuse

**Chapter Eight**

Jinsol can’t explain the rush she felt in front of a room full of fancy ass people playing classical music covered in tattoos. It’s different from her usual crowd, different from the music she usually plays. But the thing that makes it most different, the thing that makes her heart a chaotic mess in her chest, is the blonde woman standing at the edge of the stage staring up at her with so much adoration it makes Jinsol lightheaded. 

There aren’t many good memories attached to playing piano, not any more. Each one leads back to Eunha, back to the moment in the hotel when her trust had been broken along with her heart. Jinsol hadn’t wanted to play piano ever again, let alone the classical songs that Eunha had taught her all those years ago. But there had been something about the way Jungeun looked upset at her mom’s frazzled state that made Jinsol want to help. Made her want to attach a new memory to playing piano, one that had Jungeun a part of it. 

Sure she had been nervous to go up on that stage, had been nervous to know that more than enough people in that room were judging her, and yet it didn’t matter. Jinsol could stand up there and prove that she’s more than a punk, more than what the tabloids have painted her as. She may never belong here, not like Jungeun does or Yerim for that matter. 

But Jinsol wants to belong beside Jungeun, wants to make a space for herself there in a way she hadn’t wanted with someone for a long time. She hadn’t trusted someone like that since Eunha, and she feels like she’s finally ready to. Finally ready to move on, to accept that she had been hurt, that she can’t change what happened in the past, but she can change how she handles the present and her future. 

And she wants Jungeun in her future. To get there, though, Jinsol has to let go of her past. She wants to let go. 

“Sol,” Jungeun calls to her and points to Jinsol’s left. The pianist had finally arrived, smiling sheepishly from the back of the stage. Taeyeon comes rushing over as Jinsol finishes up the last of the song she had been playing. 

“Let’s give a round of applause for Jinsol for stepping in for Seungwan,” Taeyeon says into the mic with a gracious smile. The guests clap politely and Jinsol steps down from the stage.

Jinsol barely has a chance to catch her bearings before Jungeun is dragging her out of the East Room toward the staircase. They walk hastily past other guests and secret service agents muttering into their comms. Jinsol finds Jiwoo following them at a distance, a surprisingly pleasant expression on her face. 

Jiwoo makes eye contact with Jinsol and smirks knowingly. Jinsol isn’t sure if she should be worried about where Jungeun is taking her. 

It takes a series of staircases and doorways to finally make it outside the White House residence to the west colonnade. Jinsol has never actually been to the White House before this, honestly knows nothing much about it other than what she hears in the news and from Haseul who constantly blathers on about politics sometimes. Jinsol couldn’t tell you which way they came from or are going, the only reason she has any idea is because Jungeun is narrating like a tour guide. Pointing out rooms, hallways, paintings of past presidents. 

“And this,” Jungeun sweeps her arm out, “is the Rose Garden.” 

They step out onto the neatly trimmed lawn illuminated by twinkling lights hung in the trees and woven through the shrubbery. Roses of all colors are in full bloom, faintly visible in the twinkling lights. 

Jinsol turns around slowly, taking it all in. It looks straight out of a fairytale. She spots a few marines at their posts and then Jiwoo, who stands closer than the rest but far enough away to give them space. She sends Jungeun a thumbs up and turns her back to them. 

Finally, Jinsol spots a blanket set out on the lawn with a bottle of something and two glasses resting on top. 

An audible gasp falls from her lips, “Jungeun, this is—”

“Too much?” Jungeun asks sheepishly. 

“In the best way possible,” Jinsol reaches out for Jungeun and wraps an arm around her waist, bringing her closer. “This is really sweet.”

“I asked you on a date, I wanted to make it special.” They walk over to the blanket, gently sitting down beside each other, not wanting to knock over the glasses or the bottle. Jungeun pulls out another couple blankets and drapes them over their shoulders and laps, using the excuse of the blankets being small to cuddle into Jinsol’s side. 

“No one’s done anything like this for me before,” Jinsol whispers into the silence of the night. The noise from the State Dinner is impossible to hear from this distance. Faintly the sounds of the city reach them, but not enough to break the bubble they’ve created. It’s just the two of them. No guards in sight, though both know they’re somewhere in the area. Still, it’s more intimate than the crowded coffee shop. 

“Not even…”

“You can say her name, you know,” Jinsol teases. “Not even Eunha, no. Our dates were different, we spent so much time together anyway because of band stuff we never really did things like this.”

“Well, then I’m happy to give you a different kind of date,” Jungeun smiles brightly. “You deserve to know how special you are to me.” 

Jinsol’s heart flutters at the words, “Oh yeah? And how special is that?” 

Jungeun shifts beside her, pulling away to look into Jinsol’s eyes. There’s something about the way the lights around them reflect in Jungeun’s eyes, something in the way that even though they’re wrapped in a blanket, Jinsol still feels a shiver run down her spine. It’s the way Jungeun looks at Jinsol like she’s the only person in the world right now. It’s probably similar to the way Jinsol looks at her. 

“Special enough that I fought the secret service to let me make this date happen,” Jungeun says softly. “Special enough that I convinced my mom to let me bail on a State Dinner because I’d much rather be with you than surrounded by those people.”

“You fought the secret service and the President?” Jinsol laughs, “I must be pretty damn special then. I don’t think I’d go up against Jiwoo like that.” 

“She’d definitely throw you like a ragdoll if you tried,” Jungeun laughs with her. 

“I’m happy you were able to get away from that dinner though, I can tell you’re not totally comfortable around those people.”

Jungeun sighs, “I’m not, but it’s the path my mom wants me to take. I don’t hate it, but it doesn’t feel like me, you know?”

Holding her gaze, Jinsol takes one of Jungeun’s hands in hers. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

“Being with you, talking to you, it’s made it even more apparent that this stupid political path I’m on is the last thing I want. You make me want to be brave and follow my heart.” 

“So what do you want?” 

“That’s the thing...I have no fucking idea,” Jungeun laughs mirthlessly. “I don’t know what I want, but it’s never been this.”

“I know it can be scary, but the best time to try things out is now. Do you want another ten years of this?” 

Jungeun shakes her head, “No, but my mom will be disappointed in me. She’s had this grand vision of me following her footsteps, becoming President one day like she has. I don’t think I could handle the look she’d give me if I didn’t.” 

Jinsol opens her arms, letting Jungeun fall into them. She holds tightly to her, rubbing her arm soothingly, knowing that fighting against the wishes of parents isn’t easy. Jinsol gets that, she’s been through that. But she also knows that the liberation she felt after deciding to become a musician had been well worth it. 

“I know the idea of disappointing your mom is scary, but right now you’re disappointed in yourself,” Jinsol whispers to Jungeun, her lips brushing against the side of Jungeun’s head. “You have to live with yourself and this feeling for the rest of your life. Is that really what you want or do you want something more? You can have more, Jungeun. You _deserve_ more.”

Jinsol kisses the top of Jungeun’s head, hoping her words didn’t cross a line. But Jungeun simply squeezes her tighter. 

“How do you always know what to say?” Jungeun says, pulling out of the embrace with a gentle smile. 

“Talent,” Jinsol smiles and Jungeun laughs. 

Jungeun turns and pours them each a glass from the bottle next to her.

“Oh, I shouldn’t—” Jinsol holds her hands up. 

Jungeun smiles softly, “It's just sparkling cider, non-alcoholic, I promise.” She holds the glass out to her, but Jinsol is still frozen. 

Her friends still drink on occasion, usually without her around, but sometimes when they celebrate they do break out the alcohol. Hyejoo sits out drinking, mostly because she’s underage, but also because she doesn’t want Jinsol to be alone in those moments. It’s hard, Jinsol admits that. Some days are harder than others to resist the urge. Drinking had become such a natural reaction to anything. Good day, drink. Bad day, drink. But it’s right now that Jinsol realizes that unlike everyone else in her life, Jungeun is taking that effort. 

Jinsol can smell the champagne on her lips, so it’s clear she had a drink or two before Jinsol showed up. That doesn’t bother her in the slightest, she doesn’t expect people to not drink because she can’t and won’t. It’s the gesture that Jungeun is making right now, that she had the conscious thought to not only make sure Jinsol had a non-alcoholic drink, but that she would have it with her too. 

Most people don’t do that for her, they see it as her problem not theirs. But Jungeun takes it on with her. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought it’d be fancy to have glorified juice in a champagne glass,” Jungeun says. 

Jinsol takes the glass, “Thank you, you didn’t have to…” 

“Of course I did, I want you to feel comfortable and safe with me, Jinsol,” Jungeun places her hand on Jinsol’s thigh. “If it wasn’t already apparent, I really like you. I like spending time with you, and I want you to feel like you can be yourself with me. I want you to feel like you can be honest with me, because I’ll only ever be honest with you.”

Jinsol swallows past the lump in her throat, “I do. I do feel all of that with you.” 

“So you do like me,” Jungeun lifts the glass to her lips, a teasing glint in her eyes. 

“I think you know I do, Jungeun,” Jinsol says seriously, setting her glass down to look at her. 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear you say it.” 

Jinsol watches Jungeun carefully. Watches how her eyes scan Jinsol’s face, slowly moving from her eyes, down to her lips, and back up again. Her heart slams against her chest. She’s admitted it before. Told it straight to Jungeun’s face that night in the aquarium. Which had then been followed by the story about her past. Maybe that took away from how much Jinsol meant it when she told Jungeun how she felt. Feels. 

“You make me happy in a way that I haven’t been in a long time,” Jinsol whispers, as if speaking louder would break this moment between them. This electric feeling that makes her skin tingle and body shiver. “I’ve been carrying the weight of my past for so long and I can feel it finally settling. It has something to do with the album, but I think it has a lot more to do with you. You never judged me, never believed what other people said about me. I—well, I think I’m falling for you, Jungeun. And I’ll do so happily.” 

“I only asked if you liked me,” Jungeun teases, but her smile spreads from ear to ear. 

“Yeah, I know,” Jinsol leans closer to Jungeun, “but I wanted to tell you how I really feel.”

“That’s good to know because I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you, too,” Jungeun whispers, both of them inching ever closer. 

They’re like magnets, Jinsol has known that since the beginning. Inexplicably drawn to each other. It’s been easy-going between them since the moment they met. Lighthearted, playful, and never an ounce of judgement. That’s not easy to come by in any relationship, but especially when their lives are both so public. Everyone around them expects something different, but they never expect anything but the truth from each other. And, so far, that’s all they’ve ever given each other. 

“So, we’re on the same page then,” Jinsol says, her lips barely brushing against Jungeun’s. 

“Jinsol, shut up and kiss me.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Jinsol gently grabs the back of Jungeun’s neck, tangling her fingers in the blonde’s hair. 

When she was younger she had always thought the most exhilarating thing was being able to swim with the fish in the exhibits at the aquarium to help her parents. And then she got older and started playing in front of crowds. Jinsol swore up and down that nothing would ever make her feel alive like listening to people sing the words to songs she wrote. 

But she had been wrong. 

Nothing in her life has made her feel as live, as exhilarated, or as on top of the world as kissing Jungeun does. 

* * *

A few days later, Jinsol is in the studio with the rest of the band. She’s been silent as she always is between recording her vocals. But it has less to do with her superstition and more to do with her nerves. 

After her date with Jungeun she started to realize that she couldn’t fully move on. The album has let her get out what she needed to say, but she has never said it to the person who hurt her. As much as Jinsol feels toward Jungeun, none of it will matter if she doesn’t get closure with Eunha. 

She’s spent the next few days trying to figure out how to do it. How to approach the conversation with Eunha. But it finally dawned on her last night. 

The album. The one they’re just about done recording. Every song on the album is about Eunha, about Jinsol, about what happened. And it wouldn’t be polite or professional of Jinsol if she didn’t ask for Eunha’s blessing to release it. 

Jinsol by no means needs her permission, but she believes Eunha owes her at least that much. 

What surprised Jinsol the most was that when she asked Eunha to meet up she readily agreed. But in order to meet her, Jinsol has to lie to her friends, to Jungeun. She knows they’d want to stop her, to come with her, and this is something she feels she needs to do on her own. If she is going to move on, to let this part of her life go, she needs to face it alone. 

“Hey, Sol, you want to grab lunch with us when you’re done?” Sooyoung asks before Jinsol steps into the booth. 

“She’s probably getting lunch with her _girlfriend_ ,” Haseul teases, bumping her shoulder into Jinsol. 

“She told me she’s gotta do some errands when she’s done,” Hyejoo says from her spot on the couch. “But can Yerim and I come? She wants to hang with you guys again.” 

“Sure,” Sooyoung shrugs, “as long as she’s buying.” 

“Her mom’s the President, not a billionaire, Sooyoung,” Heejin rolls her eyes. “Chae and I’ll join, too.” 

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Chaewon asks Jinsol, “It’ll be fun. You can bring Jungeun.” 

“Another time, I promise,” Jinsol smiles, but her chest hurts from the lie she’s telling. The five of them stare back at her, each a different level of concern in their eyes, but they trust her. Jinsol’s chest aches more at the thought. “Let’s record this so you all can head out.” 

It doesn’t take long for Jinsol to finish up recording _Lonely Girl_. She nails it almost on the first try. If it wasn’t for Chaewon’s need for absolute perfection. 

It’s the first time singing a song from the album that doesn’t make Jinsol hurt. Not in the way the other songs have. There isn’t a tight grip on her throat or a nauseating feeling in her stomach. It’s simply just a song. One that once hurt like hell to write but now it’s nothing more than a time capsule for a moment in her life that she doesn’t care to relive anymore. Doesn’t care to carry it around with her. 

That’s why when she leaves the studio, heading in the opposite direction of her friends, Jinsol reasons with herself that she’s doing this for good. For the good of herself, for the good of her friends, for the good of her relationship with Jungeun. 

**Jungie:** Yerim says she’s meeting your friends for lunch

 **Jungie:** Why aren’t you going?

 **Sol:** I have some errands to run

 **Sol:** I’ll call you later, okay? 💙

She sends the message just as she spots Eunha sitting at their old table in the diner. Her hair is still blonde, though much longer than Jinsol remembers, but she is still just as beautiful. Eunha has on an old band tee with it’s sleeves cut off showing her arms covered in tattoos. There’s one that sticks out to Jinsol though, the same one that’s on her arm. 

Jinsol shakes head, they were young and stupid. Thinking that inking their love into their skin would mean it would last forever. 

Eunha looks up from the table and sees Jinsol at the door of the diner. She smiles and waves her over. It feels so familiar. The number of times they’ve met here over the years. All the times they would write songs at that table or have late night breakfast after a concert. It’s like nothings changed, but they both know that so much has. 

“I was surprised to get your message,” Eunha says when Jinsol slides into the seat across from her. 

“Trust me, I was surprised I sent it.” 

An awkward silence falls between them. The years of space, of pain becoming glaringly obvious. 

Eunha clears her throat, forcing a smile, “I ordered you a coffee, but I wasn’t sure if you still made it the same way…” She gestures to the sugar and milk at the edge of the table. 

“Thanks,” Jinsol slides the cup in front of her and fixes it up. Adding a bit of milk and sugar before stirring it together and taking a sip. 

“Still the same,” Eunha remarks and Jinsol looks at her curiously. “I never understood why you put the milk first, because it cools the coffee so the sugar doesn’t always fully melt.”

Jinsol just smiles, “Because I like the little crunchy bits.” 

Eunha laughs, “You look happy, Sol.” 

“I am,” Jinsol’s smile widens. “It’s actually part of the reason why I asked to meet.” She shifts in her seat, pulling out her phone and a pair of headphones, laying them on the table. 

“Does this have to do with the band or—” Eunha stops and tilts her head as a blush blooms across Jinsol’s face. “Or a woman.” 

“Both,” Jinsol looks out the window next to the booth. “I did meet someone.”

“The President’s daughter,” Eunha nods, “So I’ve seen. You love her.”

“Yeah, I think I do,” Jinsol says, looking back toward Eunha. Guilt eats at her, though she’s not sure why. Eunha had cheated on her, let those false rumors spread without interference. Yet still, a part of Jinsol will always love her and want the best for her. She doesn’t want to hurt her now. 

She’s surprised to see Eunha smiling teasingly at her, “You never do anything half assed, Jinsol. When you love, you love with everything you have.” 

“Isn’t that what got me in trouble in the first place?” 

Eunha doesn’t even flinch at the remark, she only shakes her head, smile still in place. “No, you just loved someone who took your love for granted and sucked it out of you. I loved you, Jinsol, but I didn’t love you enough to give you what you wanted or what you deserved. And I’m sorry for that.”

“Eunha…” 

“Don’t do that, don’t start to cave and let me get away with how much I hurt you,” Eunha taps Jinsol’s phone screen. “I’ve heard the singles you’ve released. I know how badly I hurt you when I cheated on you, when I let the world think you were some abusive bitch. I should’ve said something, but I felt like maybe it would justify why I couldn’t love you as much as I wanted to, as you wanted me to.” 

“That’s not a good enough reason to let people think that I would purposefully hurt you, Eunha,” Jinsol sighs. “That’s not why I came here. I don’t care what people think about me anymore, or what they thought about me. That doesn’t matter. I want to put my past to rest, I forgive you. What you did was wrong, but what I did after was my own fault, and I’ll own that.”

“How long have you been sober?” Eunha asks. If it was anyone else, Jinsol would tell them it’s none of their business. But for so much of their relationship, Jinsol spent it in an intoxicated fog.

“I’ve fallen off the wagon a few times since I got outta rehab,” Jinsol pulls the real chip out of her pocket, not the one Hyejoo gave her. “I got my twelve month chip the other week.”

“That’s amazing, Sol,” Eunha takes Jinsol’s hand and holds it tightly. Her expression softening, “I’m really proud of you. I’m sure the other girls are, too.” 

“They don’t know I’m here right now.”

Eunha sits back, “I didn’t think they would or else there’d be five women about to beat the shit out of me outside the window.”

Jinsol laughs, “You’re not wrong. I know they don’t care about this, but I do...I wanted your blessing for this album. Pretty much all the songs are about you, me, and what happened. I don’t want it to come out and take you by surprise.” 

“What’s the title?”

“Of the album?” Jinsol queues up the songs and gives Eunha the headphones. “Locked in Memories. I thought it was fitting given the content.”

“Knowing you, it definitely is.” Eunha puts the headphones on and starts up the music. They sit there like that for the next hour or so talking about each song. About the hurt, the regret, and all the things they’ve never said to each other but should have before things reached their boiling point. 

By the time they’re done, Jinsol is feeling lighter than she ever has before. Knowing that Eunha has given her blessing, that she loves the songs and understands that Jinsol needed to let it out in the other way she knows how. That on top of her date with Jungeun has Jinsol feeling like she’s on cloud nine and she never wants to come down. 

Outside the diner, Jinsol hugs Eunha. 

“Thank you for this, I appreciate it,” Jinsol says, stepping back. 

“I hope you find that happiness, Jinsol. You really do deserve it,” Eunha smiles and turns without another word. Disappearing into a crowd of people. 

Jinsol makes her way back to her apartment with a big smile on her face. The past week has gone so well in so many different ways, she can’t even begin to fathom the amount of happiness that is welling up inside her. 

She can’t wait to get home, crawl into bed, and talk to Jungeun. To explain to her and the band that she had talked to Eunha and that she’s sorry she lied, but she needed to do it for herself. Needed to have that moment without them worrying about her or trying to protect her when she’s finally learning how to protect herself. 

But what she gets when she walks through the front door is five pairs of accusatory eyes. Jinsol’s smile falls away, her shoulders sagging as she closes the door behind her. 

“Hey, what—” Jinsol starts to ask but Sooyoung cuts her off. 

“Are you fucking insane?” 

Haseul reaches for her, “Soo, please—” 

“No, it’s a genuine question,” Sooyoung steps toward Jinsol. “I thought that you wanting to have this album be all about Eunha and your drinking was going to be bad. I was happy to be proven wrong, but you _willingly_ went to talk to her alone. And you _lied_ to us! She broke you, Jinsol! What were you fucking thinking?” 

Jinsol sucks in a deep breath, taken aback by the sudden anger from Sooyoung. “I know you’re mad, but you don’t need to be a bitch about it. I’m sorry I lied, but I knew you wouldn’t have let me go.”

“We’re not your moms, Solie,” Haseul says carefully, “We wouldn’t have stopped you. We’re hurt that you lied to us and that you didn’t feel you could trust us to let us know you were gonna talk to her.”

“I’m sorry I just—” Jinsol stops, “Wait, how do you even know I went to talk to Eunha?” 

They all exchange nervous glances. 

“Well, you see,” Heejin starts, but Chaewon lays a hand on her thigh and Heejin goes quiet. 

Hyejoo sighs, standing up and handing her phone over to Jinsol. “A reporter saw you with her at the diner.”

“It doesn’t look good,” Chaewon adds softly. 

“They got a good picture of you and Eunha looking very cozy, holding hands and shit,” Heejin says. 

Jinsol looks at all of them. Haseul is holding Sooyoung, whispering quietly into her ear and running a soothing hand over her hair. Heejin and Chaewon look like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like they want to go buy out all the alcohol in the area just so Jinsol can’t get to it. 

Jinsol looks to Hyejoo, who looks the least scared out of all of them. She knows that Sooyoung is angry because she’s worried, that Haseul is quiet because she is terrified she might have to find Jinsol whiskey bottle deep on a curb again.

But Hyejoo, who has been there from the beginning, from her absolute lowest that even the others hadn’t seen, doesn’t look scared or hurt or angry. She looks disappointed. 

“Your matching tattoos were in perfect view for them, too,” Hyejoo says, urging Jinsol to look at the article. 

On the phone screen, the article title stands out in bold font: _Punk Rock Star Jinsol Caught Cozying Up To Ex-Girlfriend; Is The President’s Daughter Just Another Notch?_

The series of photos that accompany that trashy article only solidify the lie that the reporter has created. Eunha holding her hand when Jinsol told her about her sobriety chip. Jinsol laughing at Eunha’s reaction to _Coffee at Midnight_ , purely because Eunha hates coffee. Their heads bent over the table to look at the lyrics for one of the songs. And finally, the hug when they went their separate ways. 

It took this reporter less than an hour to get this article out to the public. 

Jinsol’s eyes start to burn, her chest tightening when she realizes that this article is out in the world. “Please, please, tell me Jungeun hasn’t seen this.”

No one says anything. 

“Tell me she hasn’t seen this before I can explain, _please_!” Jinsol yells. “We’re not—It’s all so new…. Hye, has she—”

“She’s seen it,” Hyejoo says, hugging Jinsol tightly 

“No, no, she’ll listen right? She’ll hear me out. She didn’t jump to judge me or to conclusions before,” Jinsol pushes Hyejoo off her and races to her room if only to get a moment alone. She dials Jungeun’s number when she shuts the door. “Pick up, pick up. Please—She sent me to voicemail.” 

Jinsol dials again and again. Each time her call is sent straight to voicemail. 

**Jungie:** some errands you ran today

 **Jungie:** [image attached]

 **Sol:** please, let me explain 

**Jungie:** I should’ve listened to everyone who told me to stay away

 **Sol:** it’s not what it looked like, please! Please just let me explain 

**Sol:** jungeun im sorry please answer me 

**Sol:** i never meant to hurt you 

**Jungie:** But you did. 

**Jungie:** You know, I don’t care that you saw her. That’s your business. But you lied to me, Jinsol, and that’s what hurts the most.

 **Jungie:** I need space. Don’t contact me. 

Hyejoo steps into their room and Jinsol looks up, tears falling. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Jinsol whispers. “I just wanted closure so I could be with Jungeun completely.” 

“You should’ve told her that,” Hyejoo says. 

“I think I lost her,” Jinsol’s legs buckle beneath her and Hyejoo rushes to catch her. “I didn’t even have her and I lost her.” 

Hyejoo doesn’t say anything, just holds Jinsol as she sobs. At some point the Sooyoung, Haseul, Chaewon, and Heejin join them on the floor of their room. Each of them adding themselves to the tangled mess of limbs and blankets. No one speaks as they lay there. They offer their silent comfort, the way that they always do; in gentle hugs, fingers running through her hair, and squeezing of hands. 

Everything had been great. Jinsol felt like she was finally healing from her past, ready to take on the future and give her all to herself, to her friends, and to Jungeun. She wanted to be a better version of herself, a healthier one. One that she could be proud of. 

Now everything hurts too much to think or to care. Jinsol believed she had done the right thing, but she was wrong.

She really thought she could leave her past behind her. How naïve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic
> 
> Also, I've had this chapter written for a while and I wanted to post it now. I haven't had a chance to write ch. 10 yet, I've been really sick and I have finals this week. I will hopefully get to it soon. For now, enjoy this.

**Chapter Nine**

“Their album releases today,” Yerim says, sitting perched at the edge of Jungeun’s bed. “Are you going to listen to it?” 

“Why would I?” Jungeun answers, head bent over a textbook at her desk. She hasn’t spoken to Jinsol in twelve days, four hours, and thirty-six minutes. But she’s not counting. No, that would mean that she’s been keeping track of the amount of time her chest has been aching and wanting for Jinsol. 

“Because you love her,” Yerim says like it’s the simplest thing. Maybe it is the simplest thing. 

“And she lied to me,” Jungeun turns in her chair to face her sister and her mess of a room. She hasn’t had the energy. Between drowning out thoughts of Jinsol and the endless chatter of trashy magazines talking about them, Jungeun couldn’t muster the energy to care. Cleaning gave her time to think. And that’s the last thing she wants to do right now. 

“People lie, Jungie, you can’t hold it against her when you don’t even know _why_ she did it.”

“I don’t like liars. We’re surrounded by them all day every day, I thought she was different,” Jungeun sighs, and looks back at her desk. The clock on her desk ticks to another minute. 

Twelve days, four hours, and thirty-seven minutes

Yerim groans loudly, jumping from the bed and walking over to her sister. She spins Jungeun’s chair and forces her sister to look at her. “You and I both know Jinsol is nothing like these pompous politicians. She lied to you, and yeah, it hurt you, but are you really gonna throw that away without even talking to her?”

“If I say yes, are you gonna hit me?” 

“I might!” Yerim throws her arms in the air. “I don’t understand you, Jungie. I really don’t. You have never been happy here, not in the White House, not in politics, not following Mom’s ridiculous path for you. You let her decide everything for you and you finally, _finally_ made a decision on your own. Jinsol loves you, you love her. Why do you have to make it more complicated than that?” 

Jungeun doesn’t answer. She doesn’t _have_ an answer. 

It’s not complicated. This whole time with Jinsol hasn’t been complicated in the slightest. Being with her, falling for her has been the easiest thing in Jungeun’s life. 

She can’t stop thinking about the first headline from that trashy online article. The one that called her another notch for Jinsol. Jungeun never felt like a notch on Jinsol’s bedpost until that moment; there had been no reason to. They hadn’t even kissed until the night of the State Dinner. 

Jungeun knows she isn't a notch in Jinsol’s life. Jinsol never did anything to make her feel like she was. They’ve been on a whirlwind of bliss, of getting to know each other, of falling so quickly and so quietly Jungeun didn’t notice until it hit her in the face. 

The lie hurt, especially because they’ve been nothing but honest with each other from the start. That’s the one thing Jungeun loved so much about Jinsol, about them together. And the one time Jinsol lied it was to go see her ex-girlfriend. The person who absolutely destroyed her. 

Jungeun’s scared it could happen again. Scared she could lose Jinsol. But isn’t she losing her already? 

Her throat tightens at the thought. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Yerim whispers, clearly picking up on her sister’s change in mood. “Whether that’s with or without Jinsol, I want you to be happy.” 

“I don’t know what makes me happy anymore,” Jungeun looks at her sister, tears in her eyes. “You said it yourself, I’ve followed Mom’s plan this whole time. I can’t remember a decision I made for my own life before Jinsol. I don’t want my happiness to only hinge on—on a relationship that could fail.” 

“No one said you had to make her your only happiness. But having her in your life was helping you _find_ yourself again,” Yerim smiles gently and squeezes her sister's hand. “Their kickoff concert for their tour is tomorrow night, I hope you’ll come with me.” Yerim grabs a shirt off the bed and tosses it at Jungeun. “I even made you a shirt to wear.” 

Jungeun unfolds the shirt. On the front is the band’s name, _ENDLESS CYCLE._ Jungeun turns it over and can’t help but laugh, “I’m dating the lead singer and all I got is this stupid shirt.” 

“Mine says the same thing, but the drummer instead,” Yerim laughs. “Forgive her, don’t forgive her, but at least talk to her, Jungie. Even if it’s just for your own piece of mind, because I know your brain has been turning its wheels about this for—” 

“Twelve days,” Jungeun fills in. 

Yerim pauses at the door, an unamused yet teasing look on her face, “You know it down to the second, don’t you?” 

“...No. Just the minutes,” Jungeun blushes. 

“I can’t stand you,” Yerim laughs and opens the door. 

“Wait, is—how is she?” Jungeun asks, knowing that Hyejoo has to be telling Yerim about it. They’ve been basically inseparable. 

“Ask her yourself.” Yerim shakes her head and leaves Jungeun’s room with a soft click of the door closing behind her. 

Jungeun tosses the shirt back onto her bed and tries to go back to studying. She doesn’t even know why she’s studying when classes aren’t even in session, but it’s all she can find that doesn’t remind her of Jinsol. Except now everything is reminding her of Jinsol. 

The page on environmental law and the effects on aquatic animals. 

The ticking of the clock that sounds like the bare bones of a song.

Her phone on her desk still has a picture of Jinsol as the lockscreen because Jungeun couldn’t bear to change it. 

One of Jinsol’s old band tees is hanging over the chair in the corner of her room that Jungeun stole when she got flour over hers at the band’s apartment. 

Jungeun can’t escape her, not when Jinsol had become so ingrained in her life in such a short time. And if she can’t escape her maybe she shouldn’t be trying to. Twelve days without letting herself think about any of this and Jungeun thinks it’s time to try to figure out where her head is at. 

Especially knowing that Jinsol will be leaving for their tour soon, who knows how long they’ll be gone. Or if Jinsol would meet someone else. 

A sharp pain shoots through her chest at the thought.

Jungeun picks up her phone and dials a number, “Hey, can you take me somewhere? Just the two of us, yeah.” 

  
  


* * *

“This is really where you want to be?” Jiwoo asks. They’re standing in line at the aquarium, waiting to get tickets. Jiwoo is in regular civilian clothes to blend in with Jungeun better, but even then, there’s still several other secret service agents around them. 

Jungeun tugs at the sleeves of her red sweater. Well, it’s not hers. Another one of the things Jungeun stole from Jinsol. It’s obvious it’s not her, the pattern alone is loud; stars, lightning bolts, broken hearts, and lips. Jungeun doesn’t have it in her to care when someone snaps a photo of her wearing it. Part of her is hoping Jinsol will see it and know that even though they haven’t talked, Jungeun is still thinking of her. 

“Yeah, I need a place to think,” Jungeun steps up to the window and asks for two tickets before paying. They walk into the building and she heads straight for the only exhibit she knows or cares to see. The same one she sat in front of while Jinsol told her story. It had been the place that brought them closer, that cemented her growing feelings for Jinsol. And knowing that it’s one of Jinsol’s favorite places to think felt like it would be a good spot to figure out the mess in her head. 

“Still haven’t talked to Jinsol?” Jiwoo guides Jungeun carefully through the crowd of people to a quiet bench in the corner of the Atlantic Coral Reef exhibit. They take a seat and Jungeun watches familiar faces of secret service agents finding good spots to keep an eye out. 

“No, I’m not sure what to say,” Jungeun sighs, leaning back against the wall behind her and looking up. She keeps her eyes on the fish in the tank moving in groups quickly through the water. “She lied to me, and I know I keep saying that, but I’m just stuck on the why.”

“Well, you could ask her.” 

“Yes, thank you, Jiwoo, I didn’t think of that,” Jungeun rolls her eyes. 

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” Jiwoo looks at Jungeun seriously. “You want to know why she lied, ask her.”

“She lied because she went to see her ex-girlfriend. It’s not like I _care_.”

Jiwoo laughs, “Right, you don’t care. Which is why you’re still stuck on it.”

“I don’t!” 

“You do. You care that she lied to you because you thought she trusted you. You care that she lied to you to go see her ex-girlfriend because you’re jealous and because you’re worried about her,” Jiwoo settles back against the wall, not bothering to look at Jungeun. “I’ve known you since we were teenagers, Jungeun. You can’t hide the truth from me.” 

“I—” Jungeun huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. She shakes her leg as she turns back to look at the fish. 

“Jinsol may have lied to you, but she does trust you. Eunha put her through a lot, everyone who’s ever listened to Endless Cycle’s music knows that. Jinsol opened up to you about that, opened herself up to be hurt again after what she went through. She made a stupid choice not telling you the truth, but that’s life, Jungie. She made a mistake, but I’ve never seen someone look at you like she does.”

“Since when are you team Jinsol?” 

“Since she challenged you. Since she made you want more for yourself and your life than what you’re settling for,” Jiwoo says. 

Her words striking a chord in Jungeun. She swallows thickly.

Jiwoo has always looked out for her, always been by her side. Except of course when she went into training. And even then, somehow, she made it back to Jungeun’s side. To protect her again and again. It’s part of why she had been against Jinsol in the first place. Jungeun knows that. 

Jinsol was a threat to Jungeun’s safety and her happiness. And even Jiwoo can see that Jinsol has done nothing but respect and encourage Jungeun. 

“When we were, what, sixteen? You would go on and on about traveling the world, taking pictures, chasing the sun. You always had a camera attached to you.” Jiwoo laughs at the memory, and Jungeun can’t help but smile. “I haven’t seen one in your hand since your Mom ran for Congress, or since she told you that you should follow her footsteps.” 

“It was just a silly dream,” Jungeun says, trying to wave it off. But even she can hear the quiver in her voice. Even she knows she’s lying. 

“Was it though? It doesn’t have to be what you go for, but why’d you give it up? You gave up your dreams for your moms.” 

“I wanted to make her proud.” 

“We both know Taeyeon has _always_ been proud of you,” Jiwoo shakes her head. Jungeun isn’t used to anyone saying her mom’s name without her title, but then again, Jiwoo has been around longer than most. “You could’ve told her you wanted to do underwater basket weaving for a career and she would support you. So _why_ , Jungeun? Why’d you give up?”

“Because it was scary, okay? Having to make all those decisions myself when my mom was giving an easy way out. She laid it all out for me and made all those choices. And if things went to shit, I’d have someone to blame! That’s why. Because I was scared of failing. Scared of fucking up and getting hurt and—and making mistakes,” Jungeun bites back a sob, tears burning in her eyes. “My mom was one of the most revered congresswomen. She was progressive and ruthless and perfect. And Yerim, she—she is bright, and happy, and friendly. She’s so smart, she’s always known what she wanted to be since she was six. _Six_ , Jiwoo. Fucking six! She’s never questioned it. They’re both so—so _perfect_. I didn’t want to be the fuck up.

“My mom, she handed me a way out. Handed me a get out of jail free card for my life and I took it. At least when I fail I can tell her it’s her fault for pushing me in that direction. When I fail I can blame her for the whole thing but if I—” Jungeun stops, tears cascading down her face. People stare at her in confusion as they walk by but she doesn’t care. Not when she’s finally saying the things she never dared to speak before. “If I went my own way, forged my own path, no matter how happy it makes me...if I did that, Jiwoo, if I did that and _failed_ , the only person at fault would be myself.” 

Jiwoo takes Jungeun’s hand, and gently gets her attention. Her expression is so soft and open, Jungeun hasn’t seen her like this in a long time. “You failed the moment you threw away what you wanted for someone else’s dreams for you. You failed the moment you didn’t even try.” 

Jungeun wipes her face and laughs wistfully. “Jinsol said something to me the last time we were here. Her parents wanted her to follow in their footsteps, but she didn’t want that. She wanted to try, even if it meant she could fail, because she didn’t want to regret her life.” 

“Do you regret your life?” 

Jungeun nods, “I regret a lot of it. I feel like I’ve been living at a standstill while everyone else is moving. Fighting against what everyone else was saying about Jinsol, getting to know her on my own accord...it felt right. It was the first time I felt like I had moved forward, like I finally had control of my life.” 

“And you’re letting her go,” Jiwoo sighs. “Because that makes sense.” 

“I don’t want to lose her, I just—” Jungeun groans. “I can’t explain it, I feel like I’m losing it.” 

“No, explain it, try to, because we all know you love her still. You’re wearing her clothes, she’s still your background. Fuck, Jungeun, I still hear you listening to their older music,” Jiwoo points to the fish tank in front of them. “We’re at her favorite place. You don’t want to lose her, I know you don’t. And by the end of tomorrow you might never get the chance to be with her again.” 

The fact is like a punch to the gut. Jungeun is breathless at the thought once again. 

“I only kept people in my life my mom approved of. I only did things my mom agreed with. I followed everything she wanted to make her happy, because I didn’t want to disappoint her, because I wanted to place blame on her when things blew up in my face. The only time I made a choice against her was for Jinsol. And then she lied to me, she went to see Eunha. She made me feel like a fool because of those stupid tabloids,” Jungeun says, eyes trained on the bonnethead shark swimming in the coral reef exhibit. It moves forward, only ever forward. It can’t back up, can’t reverse to go back to the things it's passed. But it can turn around and try again. “I felt like I made a mistake and failed in the only relationship I sought out for myself.”

“You gave up.” 

“I did,” Jungeun sighs and stands up, brushing herself off. 

“Where are you going?” Jiwoo stands abruptly and signals to the other agents. 

“Jinsol made me want to try, for once, regardless of failing. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to until I get to the root of it.” Jungeun smiles at Jiwoo. She steps toward her best friend, and wraps her into a tight embrace, “Thank you for this, for listening.”

“It’s what best friends are for,” Jiwoo hugs Jungeun back. 

Jungeun steps away and takes a deep breath, “Now I just need to talk to my mom.” 

  
  


* * *

It took Jungeun until the next afternoon to get the nerve to talk to her mom. She knows she’s cutting it close, but having this conversation isn’t easy. Jungeun has spent most of her adult life working to be the picture perfect daughter her mom wants. Shattering that means shattering the image her mom holds of her and that’s terrifying. 

She managed to get some time with her mom between meetings, though she has to talk with her in the Oval Office. It’s never comfortable there. A glaring reminder that her mom is in such a high position of power. In that office she’s not Jungeun’s mom, she’s the President. 

Vivi let's Jungeun into the office with a sympathetic smile before backing out of the room and shutting the door behind her. Taeyeon stands in front of her desk, leans against it with a folder in her hands. She doesn’t look up when she greets Jungeun. 

“Imagine my surprise when I find out I have an appointment with my eldest daughter,” she says, a playful lilt to her voice. 

“I had to make sure we had time to talk about this,” Jungeun says, wringing her hands. 

Taeyeon stops what she’s reading and immediately looks at her daughter, “Everything okay, sweetie?”

Jungeun’s fight or flight mode kicks in. She steps back without realizing it, body preparing to run while her mind is ready to have this conversation. Ready to fight to have a life she could be happy in. 

Taking a deep breath, Jungeun stands a little taller and walks toward her mom. “Actually, no. Will you sit with me?” Jungeun gestures toward the couch and Taeyeon, probably stunned, complies silently. 

“Does this have to do with Jinsol?” Taeyeon asks once Jungeun settles onto the couch beside her.

Jungeun’s eyes widen, “Oh, um, kinda, but not really, why? What do you know about that?”

“I read things, Jungie,” Taeyeon smiles sadly. “Well, and there’s a little bit of Mother’s Intuition as well. Is it because of that article?” 

“Yeah,” Jungeun nods. She suddenly feels so small, like she’s a kid again hiding in her mom’s room during a storm. Like everything in the world is big and scary, and the only person who can protect her is her mother. It used to be like that. Used to be that Jungeun would run to her mom the moment anything bad happened or she had a problem. That changed the same time Jungeun took on that ten-year plan.

As much as her heart hurts thinking about Jinsol and that article, the twisting in her gut at the thought of that god forsaken plan reminds her why she’s meeting with her mom. 

“But that’s not why I’m here.” Jungeun looks her mom square in the eyes, “I don’t want to be a politician. I don’t want to be a lawyer, or litigator, or mayor, or President. I don’t want any of that.”

“You don’t?” Taeyeon hums thoughtfully. 

“No, I really don’t. I’m not happy, Mom. The only reason I went down this path is because it’s what you wanted for me, I felt like I didn’t have a choice anymore,” Jungeun takes a deep breath. “But I also didn’t fight against it because it was easier to do this and blame you for my unhappiness and my failures.” 

Jungeun watches her mom carefully. Watches how Taeyeon doesn’t change expressions throughout Jungeun speaking. She thought maybe her mom would get angry or upset in some way, but she isn’t even moving a muscle. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you…” Jungeun says eventually, hating the silence. “I wanted to make you proud of me, like you are of Yerim.”

Jungeun turns her gaze down to her hands, pulling a pillow into her lap and fiddling with the fringes. She looks up when she hears her mom sigh. 

“Oh, Jungie,” Taeyeon says, her expression finally shifting. Eyes filled with a sadness Jungeun hadn’t seen in a very long time. Especially in this room. It’s like her mom forgot that she is a mother right now, not the President in the Oval Office. “I am proud of you, I’ve always been proud of you. You and Yerim, you’re two very different people, and I know that. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you had to be similar to your sister to be worthy of my approval.”

“You’re—You’re not mad?” Jungeun swallows. The tightness in her chest begins to loosen. 

“No, oh god no,” Taeyeon shakes her head. “I’m a little sad that I won’t have you as my little shadow anymore, but that’s a small price to pay for you to be happy. How long have you been feeling like this?”

“A while…since undergrad,” Jungeun admits. “I saw that ten-year plan ahead of me and I—I realized I wanted nothing to do with it. It’s your dream, Mom, not mine.”

“I wish you felt like you could have come to me about this sooner. Though, I guess I have been relatively unreachable between the campaign for presidency and well, being president.” Taeyeon runs her hands through her hair, and smiles sadly at her daughter. “You know, you were the one that brought that ten-year plan to me. You were, I’d say, a sophomore in college? There was this fire in your eyes, like you’d rather die than not achieve these goals. I thought I was supporting your dream. I wanted to encourage you to follow that, but I think somewhere along the way I started forcing you into those goals. And I’m so sorry for that, Jungeun.”

“At the time I made it, I just wanted to have your attention, to make you proud of me,” Jungeun says. “I think I convinced myself that it’s what you would’ve wanted from me. I just wanted an out, Mom. I was scared of the future, scared of failing. You don’t make mistakes, you’ve had success after success.”

Taeyeon laughs, “I’m the furthest thing from perfect. I used to be this little rebel child growing up, though I never got caught. I changed my major six times, and failed more than enough classes. I’ve made mistakes in Congress. Hell, I’ve made mistakes as President. I’m not perfect, sweetie. No one is. We’re human, we make mistakes. It’s what we do after the mistakes that matters.” Taeyeon leans over, wrapping an arm around Jungeun’s shoulder and pulling her close. She kisses her daughter on the head and whispers, “You are young. You have your whole life ahead of you to make mistakes, to fail, to try again and fail again. Life is a series of trial and error; you’ll learn as you go. But I don’t want you settling for a life that isn’t fulfilling, that doesn’t make you happy. Make your mistakes, Jungeun, but learn from them, and fix them if you can.” 

Tears spill down Jungeun’s face silently as she’s wrapped in her mom’s arms. For years she has held her mom at arms length, resenting her for this life that she felt forced into. But she had been forcing herself into it, if only to blame someone else for her misery. 

Jungeun finally feels relief. It fills a void in her heart that she hadn’t known was there. It’s like she could finally breathe after years of squeezing herself into a mold that wasn’t meant for her. 

“I made a mistake, Mom,” Jungeun whispers through her tears.

“Is this about Jinsol, now?” Taeyeon asks, and Jungeun nods. 

“She lied to me, and I know if I just let her explain it wouldn’t happen again, but—” 

“You were afraid you made a mistake and cut her off,” Taeyeon fills in. “Can I show you something?” 

Taeyeon doesn’t wait for Jungeun’s response before taking out her phone and pulling up a news article with a video attached. 

“What is this?” 

“Jinsol’s ex-girlfriend got bombarded with questions from some reporter about her and Jinsol.” 

Jungeun reaches out and presses play. 

[video now playing]

_Eunha is walking down the street when the camera comes rushing toward her. She’s startled backwards and glares at the camera._

_“Eunha, do you have anything to say about the article regarding you and your ex, Jinsol?” The reporter holds out a microphone only for Eunha to push it away and continue to walk. “Why would you go back to her after the rumors about Jinsol’s temper?”_

_“Jinsol doesn’t have a temper,” Eunha says, facing the camera. “You know what, let’s set the record straight. It was never anyone’s business what happened between Jinsol and I. But since you’re all so happy to be up our asses, how about this. I cheated on Jinsol, and she was angry, reasonably so. She had a heavy alcohol addiction and I was selfish. We were toxic to each other, but no one laid a hand on anyone.”_

_“Why did you let the rumors persist after the break up?”_

_“I did try to correct them and everyone thought I was trying to protect her. Jinsol is the kindest, most caring person I have ever met. She gives her all to whoever she’s with or talking to. Whoever has her heart, they will have it completely. I didn’t love her as much as she loved me, that’s all there is to it.”_

_“And the reason you two had a date?”_

_“Jesus fucking christ, do you people have your own lives?” Eunha rolls her eyes, “Jinsol’s band is releasing a new album soon and it’s the story of us, of our break up and her addiction. She was being courteous and wanted my blessing to release it. We’re on good terms, stop dredging shit up.”_

_Eunha stops and then turns back around with a brilliant smile._

_“Don’t forget to buy and stream Endless Cycles’s new album, ‘Locked in Memories,’ when it drops in two weeks,” Eunha says and then turns around._

_The screen goes black._

[video ends]

“How’d you even find this?” Jungeun asks at the end. Her head is full of new information she isn’t sure how to process and that is the only thing she could get out. 

Taeyeon scrolls through her phone and pulls up another article. “I keep tabs on the women that have my daughters’ hearts. Their music video for their title track is cool, lots of neon lights and what-not.”

Jungeun feels choked up again at the idea of her mom caring enough to listen to the band’s music and get to know them.

“Jinsol went to meet Eunha about the album,” Jungeun whispers. 

“And the new manipulated the story,” Taeyeon says, “which they always do. Never put all your trust into the news without doing your own research, too. They’re selective in the stories they tell. It’s half truths buried under a headline that draws you in.” 

“I—Fuck,” Jungeun’s chest tightens once again. “I was the only person who never judged her, never let other people tell me what to think of her and I fucking did. I didn’t let her explain and now she’s—” 

“Going on tour,” Taeyeon holds her phone out to her daughter. 

On the screen is a more recent article, one from this evening at the club downtown where Jungeun first saw Endless Cycle play; where she first met Jinsol. The band is helping their crew bring equipment inside, each member appearing in several photographs. But Jinsol is the one who catches Jungeun’s eye. 

“That sweater looks familiar, doesn’t it?” Taeyeon points to the picture of Jinsol that Jungeun stopped on. Jinsol is looking away from the camera, but her expression is still visible. She looks sad. “I think I got you one like that for your birthday last year.”

Jungeun looks at her mom and back at the picture. It takes her a minute to realize that it _is_ one of Jungeun’s oversized argyle sweaters. 

“Do you think this is a mistake I can fix?” Jungeun asks her mom. 

“I think you should try,” Taeyeon takes her phone back and hugs Jungeun again. “If Jinsol means that much to you, then you have to try. Even if it doesn’t work out, you have to try, Jungie.” 

“I love her, Mom,” Jungeun says. “I don’t want to lose her.” 

“Then go to her concert tonight, scream your lungs out for her. Show her how much you care about her and _talk_ to her.” 

Jungeun nods and then sits up quickly, remembering the shirt that Yerim brought her. 

“Thank you, Mom, for everything.” Jungeun kisses her mom on the cheek. 

“Go.” Taeyeon waves her off. “Fight for your happiness, Jungie, no matter what. Oh, and on your way out can you send in Admiral Jaekyung?”

Jungeun doesn’t care that she runs out of her mom’s office like a woman on a mission, or that she just waves Admiral Jaekyung in, all Jungeun is focused on is seeing Jinsol again and making this right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the songs used in this fic
> 
> Ah this is it! Final chapter of this fic that I had an absolute blast writing. Please do also keep in mind i have no idea how to even make or write about music, but I gave it my best shot. Enjoy! And there will be a short surprise to follow this so don't miss it.

**Chapter Ten**

Jinsol stands at the center of the stage, her fingers resting on her keyboard, and an empty venue in front of her. She can hear her bandmates tuning their instruments and fixing their sets ups to their liking. The bartenders at the bar on the right wall are clicking glasses as they prepare for the concert tonight. Stage crew move around them plugging in wires and laying tape. On the left side of the stage, Chaewon is talking with the manager, going over who knows what. And Jinsol...she’s lost in thought. 

Idly, she plays a few notes on the keyboard as her mind races back to the night she met Jungeun in this very club. They had just released new singles as they were finishing the tour they had to cut short because of her. She remembers then that she had been in a decent headspace, one that was ready to let go of the past and move forward. But even as she had sung those songs, she knew she wasn’t completely where she needed to be and wasn't as healed as she thought. 

That had been the whole point of Locked in Memories, the whole point of this album in general. To heal. To find herself again and move on. But that night — meeting Jungeun — changed everything for her. 

There is no moving on from her past. There is no letting it go. It’s a part of her. A big part. Those mistakes and shitty moments turned her into who she is today, and maybe for a while She hadn’t been a great person, but she’s still learning. Her past is something she will always have to carry, but it doesn’t have to weigh her down. 

Being with Jungeun made her see that. Knowing Jungeun made her understand that. 

Jungeun took one look at Jinsol, heard all those vicious rumors and didn’t let them cloud her vision of Jinsol. Didn’t let them define Jinsol. She believed Jinsol, heard her out, and accepted her  _ with _ her past. 

And if Jungeun can do that for her, Jinsol thinks she can do that for herself, too. Even if Jungeun isn’t in her life anymore. Even if Jungeun decides that Jinsol hadn’t been worth the trouble after all, Jinsol is going to keep moving forward. 

“Earth to Sol?” Heejin waves her hand in front of Jinsol’s vision. 

“Huh, what?” Jinsol snaps back to the empty venue, the expectant gazes set on them from their crew.

“We’re ready for the sound check,” Heejin says, tilting her head a little. “Are you?”

“If you need a minute—” Haseul starts to say. 

“Or some fresh air—” Sooyoung adds. 

“Or maybe she just needs all of you to stop smothering her,” Hyejoo calls from the back of the stage. “Sol?” 

Jinsol turns around, facing all her bandmates. Her friends. Her family. The four — five if she includes Chaewon, which she guesses she should — people who have been there for her this entire time. Through the six years, several mistakes, and countless empty alcohol bottles. Through the worst of it and the best of it. They are a family. 

The past two weeks had been hell for her. For all of them, she supposes. Jungeun’s radio silence had broken her heart; it still breaks her heart every day she wakes up without a sweet teasing message. And all Jinsol had wanted to do was run to the nearest bar and drown it all out. Bury that pain. But at the same time, she didn’t want to do that at all. 

It’s like there were suddenly two parts of her at war. One that wanted to revert back to her old ways and one that wanted her to stay on the clean path she’s on now. 

As much as she wants to think it had been her pure willpower that kept her sober this whole time, she’d be naive to not acknowledge the support the five of them have given her. Jinsol could have easily fallen off the wagon. Easily take a sip of alcohol and then end up three bottles deep. 

She didn’t though. Not once. Sure, the thought crossed her mind more than once. The thought crosses her mind nearly every day. She’ll never avoid that. Never get rid of that craving. And that’s her burden to bear, yet her friends continued to help her carry that weight when they saw her crumbling. 

So, yeah, maybe they can be smothering. Maybe they checked on her frequently and didn’t like to leave her alone for too long the first couple days. But Jinsol wouldn’t trade that. Wouldn’t ever trade their support and their love. Not for a drop of alcohol, not for anything. 

“It’s alright, Hye,” Jinsol smiles, “they’re just worried. I promise you guys, I’m okay.” 

“Even if—” Heejin snaps her mouth shut, but Jinsol knows where she had been going. 

With a sad smile she nods, “Even if Jungeun doesn’t show up. It’ll hurt like a bitch, but that’s not going to stop me from giving our fans a great show.” 

Hyejoo nods, a smile pulling at her lips. She turns back to her drums and adjusts one of her cymbals one more time. 

Heejin grins, bumping Jinsol’s shoulder before walking toward the edge of the stage to fix a wire. But really, she’s just there to talk to Chaewon who’s already smiling up at her. 

Sooyoung and Haseul walk toward Jinsol, their instruments hanging around their bodies. Still, that doesn’t stop them from wrapping Jinsol in their arms awkwardly. Jinsol laughs at Haseul’s face as it’s squished between her and Sooyoung. 

Haseul tries to say something but all either Sooyoung or Jinsol hear is mumbling. 

“Ah, just like old times,” Sooyoung laughs. 

Jinsol feels it too. The times spent in Haseul’s parents’ garage as teenagers. Playing music all day and dreaming of a stage all their own. They’d tease Haseul that she’d be the shortest Rockstar ever. Not that they were much taller. But still, they’d sandwich her into a hug as she grumbled about how one day she’d be taller. 

“I said!” Haseul pushes them away with huff. “I said, we’re proud of you, Solie.” 

“For...being tall?” Jinsol smirks. 

Haseul swats her arm, “No, for staying sober.”

“And for writing this kickass album,” Sooyoung grins. 

“We did help with it!” Heejin shouts stepping back to her spot on the stage. 

Jinsol rolls her eyes, if only to stop the tears that are threatening to fall. “I love you, all of you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Hyejoo teases her, twirling a drumstick between her fingers. 

“Enough mushy shit!” Chaewon yells at them from the front of the stage. She crosses her arms over her chest, though Jinsol can see the warmth in her eyes. “Do your soundcheck already, I’m starving.”

They all agree on the stage and get ready to run through some of their songs. 

Heejin, Haseul, and Sooyoung start ‘ _ When It’s Over’ _ with Hyejoo coming in a few seconds later with the drums. The music intensifies, then calms as Jinsol begins to sing. 

“Used again, it’s not easy to sit and pretend. When I’m alone in this, I don’t know why, but I’m still not over it!”

Jinsol remembers writing this song after she had slept with Eunha when she got out of rehab. When she was left in bed all alone the next morning. Well, she had written when she was a bit more coherent. She had been angry then, hurt. But as she sings it now, all she can feel is the residual pain. The kind that lingers in the fractured space in her ribs that Eunha put there, but it’s not as strong. It’s an echo of what used to be. Jinsol smiles as she goes into the chorus, knowing that she has finally found peace with what happened. 

The song comes to an end as quickly as it started and Jinsol lets out a satisfied whoop into the mic. 

“Nice,” Chaewon grins. “That was probably better than the recording.” 

“It felt good,” Jinsol smiles. 

“Can you raise my mic, please!” Heejin whines from her spot. “You can barely hear my backup vocals.” She pouts at Chaewon. 

“What’s Chae gonna do for you?” Sooyoung shakes her head, brows furrowed. 

“Yell at the sound techs until Heejin is happy, probably,” Hyejoo quips. 

“Leave them alone,” Haseul says, a grin curling at the corner of her mouth. “It’s young love.” 

Heejin groans, dropping her head into the mic which gives a loud feedback noise making them all yelp. 

The sound tech at the side of the stage shoots them two enthusiastic thumbs up. 

“Better?” Chaewon laughs at their disgruntled expressions. “Which one are you all doing next?” 

“‘ _ My House’ _ and then right into ‘ _ Lonely Girl’ _ ,” Haseul steps back to her mic. “Then you can eat.” 

“Awesome, hurry up then,” Chaewon walks back over to the side of the stage, and crosses her arms to watch carefully. 

Jinsol shakes her head laughing as they launch into ‘ _ My House’ _ . 

“I’ve had enough, I think you’ve been making me sick. Gotta get you out of my system!” Jinsol sings the chorus, remembering the haunting thoughts of Eunha in their old apartment. And the way that even after the fact, Eunha still haunted her bones, her mind. After their talk, even with the mess that ensued after the fact, Jinsol no longer felt haunted by it. “It’s my house, and I think it’s time to get out. It’s my soul. It isn’t yours anymore!” 

The final chords ring out and the band slides right into ‘ _ Lonely Girl’ _ . Jinsol feels alive on stage as she goes through these songs. She really did think performing them would hurt more than anything else. She had thought writing these songs and recording them had been cathartic enough. But there is something different about performing them — albeit to an empty venue — with her biggest support system behind her. And as much as she wants to see Jungeun in the crowd, as much as her heart aches at the thought of how long it's been since she’s seen her, Jinsol feels good. 

And as they finish up their soundcheck, as they all gather on the stage together, Jinsol throws her arms around her family, pulling them all into a group hug that they each pretend to protest.

“You’re all sweaty, Jindori, get off me,” Sooyoung whines. 

“I love you, idiots,” Jinsol says, smiling at each of them. 

“So, you said earlier,” Chaewon tries to wiggle out of the group. 

“I think it’s time for Jinsol to go on vocal rest again,” Heejin says, though she stays snuggled up to Chaewon. “She’s talking too much.” 

“You’d all miss me if I was gone,” Jinsol teases, but lets them all go and takes a step back. They all look at her seriously, but it’s Haseul who speaks up. 

“We really would,” Haseul takes her hand, squeezing it tightly. They share a meaningful glance before Hyejoo yells from the side of the stage. 

“Can we please go eat?” 

With thundering feet and wide smiles, the six of them on stage race each other out the door, yelling vague threats so they can have the front seat.

* * *

Back at their apartment, a few hours before they need to be at the club for their kickoff concert for their tour, Jinsol slides her feet into her shoes. 

“Hey, where ya going?” Haseul asks, coming out of her and Sooyoung’s shared room. 

Jinsol uses her fingers to make a walking motion, not having the energy to find something to write with to explain. Concert days are harder for her to rest her voice because of soundcheck, but she tries her best to get some time to rest it. 

It’s odd after she spent so many months throwing that superstition away to talk to Jungeun. Jinsol would still throw it away to talk to Jungeun. 

“A walk?” 

Jinsol nods and gestures to the door. 

“I’ll come with you,” Haseul rushes to put her shoes on. “It’s not because I don’t trust you to go out on your own.” 

Jinsol narrows her eyes, not entirely believing her. 

“No, I mean that. I do trust you, but I’m bored and Sooyoung is  _ knocked _ out. I tried everything I could think of to wake her up and she didn’t even move.” 

Jinsol shrugs and opens the door. It’s better to walk with company anyway. Haseul is good at holding a conversation by herself anyway. She rarely needs Jinsol to speak up when she’s resting her voice. Plus, after all their years of friendship, Haseul can read her non-verbal cues like a pro. 

The pair steps out of their apartment, locking the door behind them. They walk silently down their hallway toward the elevator. When they round the corner, they both stop in surprise. 

Chaewon has Heejin pressed against the wall as she kisses her. 

Jinsol clears her throat.

With a lot of strength, Heejin pushes Chaewon off her, sending the blue-haired girl stumbling backwards. 

“Oh, um...hi,” Heejin blushes. Chaewon on the other hand is glaring at Jinsol and Haseul like she’s trying to make them disappear. 

Haseul smirks, “You do know you have a room to make out in, right?” 

“We were just getting...snacks?” Heejin offers unconvincingly. 

“In each other’s mouths? Interesting snack choice,” Haseul reaches for Jinsol’s hand and pulls her toward the elevator. She presses the down button and turns back to Heejin and Chaewon. “Seriously, you two, just date already.” 

Chaewon looks like she wants to say something, but the elevator doors open and Jinsol and Haseul take the opportunity to get out of there quickly. 

The moment the doors shut, Jinsol and Haseul fall into each other laughing. 

“I thought Chae was going to stab us,” Haseul laughs. Jinsol raises her shoulders and hands. “Yeah, you’re right, she still might.” 

It’s not long before the elevator reaches the lobby, and they head off toward the nearest park. The late-July heat beats down on them as they walk through the street. Jinsol’s hand stays firmly wrapped around Haseul’s as they move through crowds of people. 

They walk in silence, not even Haseul tries to carry a conversation as they finally cross the street onto the path that weaves through the park. Jinsol takes in the warmth of the sun and the way the light streams through the leaves of the trees. All around the people are lounging in the sun. Kids race by them laughing as they call to each other. 

Jinsol appreciates the anonymity in the park. Though there’s probably someone somewhere taking their photos, or a paparazzi hidden in a tree or something, Jinsol tries not to think about it. Instead, she lets herself be comforted by the quiet, by the presence of her best friend, and the excitement that their album is finally done. 

“Think we can sit for a bit?” Haseul points to a bench rest in the shadow of a tall tree. Jinsol nods and takes a seat with her. “I want to talk to you about a few things.” 

Gesturing for Haseul to go ahead, Jinsol tries not to be nervous about what Haseul has in mind. 

“I’m gonna need you to break your silence, it’s a two-person kind of conversation.” 

“Oh,” Jinsol swallows, “of course. What’s going on?” 

Haseul takes a deep breath and pulls a box out of her pocket, holding it out to Jinsol. She opens it revealing a ring. 

“Seulie, I’m flattered and all, but I think Soo would murder me.” 

“Not for you,” Haseul laughs, “It’s for Sooyoung.” 

Jinsol’s eyes widen. Because duh, but also how could she not see this coming. “You want to marry her.” 

Haseul’s eyes soften, “I do, but I wanted to talk to you about it first.” 

“You don’t need my blessing to marry her. That tradition is a little archaic, plus isn’t that something you ask the dad?” 

“Will you shut up for a minute,” Haseul sighs. “I’m not asking for permission, Sooyoung is her own woman, no one owns her or controls her decisions. But I wanted to know what you thought…” 

“About you marrying my childhood best friend?” Jinsol hums, tapping her finger on her chin. “This really puts a wrench in my plan. Soo and I had a marriage pact for when we turned thirty. You’re really stealing her away with, like, five years to go?” 

“Jinsol.” 

“We  _ could _ have a polyamorous relationship, I do love you both a lot, but I’d want my own room. You know, for privacy.” 

“Jinsol, I’m being serious.”

“What makes you think I’m not?” Jinsol challenges, then grins when Haseul’s frown deepens. “Okay, okay, so that’s a no to dating the both of us?” 

“Will you  _ please _ —” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jinsol holds her hands up. “I think it’s a great idea, Seulie. You and Sooyoung have been together forever it feels like. I still remember when you both told me you had feelings for each other, and I was just sandwiched between the two of you watching you struggle to actually say it.” 

“You and Hyejoo locked us in the closet and told us that we’d better start kissing or we weren’t getting dinner.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Jinsol laughs. “You two have been in love since we were kids—”

“We were nineteen.” 

“Yeah,  _ kids _ .” Jinsol takes Haseul’s hand and smiles softly. “You’ve always been good together. You balance each other out, help each other grow. I have no doubt in my mind that Soo will say yes.”

Haseul leans into Jinsol’s side. “Thank you, Solie. I wanted you to be the first to know.” 

“You deserve happiness, both of you do. And I’m glad I get to be a part of your lives.” 

Pulling away, Haseul looks at Jinsol seriously, “You deserve happiness, too, you know.”

“I know,” Jinsol smiles. 

“Jungeun will come around…” 

“Ah,  _ that _ I don’t know about.” 

Haseul puts the ring box away and pulls out her phone, opening a browser and showing Jinsol a picture. “The poor woman is followed everywhere she goes, but—”

Jinsol heart races at the picture of Jungeun on the screen. She’s pushing her blonde hair out of her face, her dark roots showing at the top of her head. She looks good. Too good. Especially in Jinsol’s red sweater she has been looking for. 

“She was spotted at the aquarium yesterday wearing your sweater,” Haseul says. “She’s thinking of you as much as you are thinking about her. Jungeun will come around.”

“I hope she does,” Jinsol sighs, “but if she doesn’t, I think I’ll be okay.” 

Haseul holds onto Jinsol’s hand a little tighter, “I think you will be, too.” 

* * *

The energy of the crowd is incredible. It always is at their home concerts. Most of the people here have been long time fans from their early days when they still had band practice in a garage. Jinsol can’t stop smiling as they blow through most of their set list with the crowd singing along to every word. 

Everyone on stage is having a blast. They can’t stop smiling either. With every passing minute their energy gets higher and higher, feeding off the excitement of the people in the audience. 

There’s no other feeling like it. It’s a rush of adrenaline, of dopamine. Jinsol is happiest on stage with her best friends, surrounded by people who admire their work. 

Since it’s only a day after their album dropped, they’re playing a lot more of their older songs, but even now, as Jinsol sings ‘ _ Paralyzed _ ’ the audience already knows every word. She’s taken aback, holding the mic out to the crowd as they sing the chorus for her. 

“It feels like I’m paralyzed, and I can’t escape from the prison I’m living in. I’m naming the voices in my head; they keep on telling me to give in. But it’s making me stronger, fighting a little longer. I’m gonna bring me back to life and I won’t be paralyzed!” 

Jinsol grins and takes back the mic to finish the song. She has chills watching everyone in the crowd enjoying themselves. 

Heejin leans into Jinsol’s mic and sings the lines with her. They share an ecstatic smile as Heejin finishes her lines and backs away. Her and Sooyoung start fucking around on the side as they continue to play. 

Jinsol can hear Haseul’s laughter beside her as she watches their friends. The album itself is heavy with emotion, but the last couple songs of their set are Jinsol’s triumph. This song especially is her reclaiming herself. All those years hidden under a haze of alcohol and a bad love. All the time spent hating herself for what happened and letting her inner demons take control. 

No more. She’s taking herself back. 

When the song finishes the crowd goes wild. The cheers are overwhelming. She turns to find Hyejoo, Heejin, Sooyoung, and Haseul with similar dopey smiles on their faces like Jinsol’s.

They feel it too. 

But Jinsol won’t lie. As on top of the world she feels right now, it’s hard not to notice that there’s someone missing from the crowd. 

She knows. She’s checked. And double checked. Jinsol even asked Taecyeon to let her know however he could if Jungeun showed up. 

Still, nothing. 

Maybe she really isn’t coming… 

“DC!” Haseul yells into the mic, “Are you having fun tonight?” 

The crowd screams louder. 

“I think that’s a no,” Hyejoo says from the back. 

“You’re right, Hye,” Haseul shakes her head. “I said, ARE YOU HAVING FUN TONIGHT?” 

Thunderous applause and ear-splitting cheers fill the venue. 

“Much better,” Heejin grins. “We’ve only got a couple more songs for y’all.” 

“This one’s a little different than our usual sound, but we’re sure you’ll love it just the same,” Sooyoung adds, smiling over at Jinsol. 

“And even if you don’t, just pretend for my ego, okay?” Jinsol jokes. “It’s off our new album Locked in Memories. We all want a place where we belong and feel understood. We want to be worthy of love, but sometimes we don’t even know if that kind of love is even real. This one’s called ‘ _ Miracle _ .’”

Heejin takes over the lead guitar for Haseul who comes up beside Jinsol to take over the keyboard. The song has more of a synth sound so Jinsol programmed the music into the keyboard switches and dials for Haseul to play. 

“Ready?” Jinsol leans over to ask Haseul. 

“If I fuck up, it’s your fault for not teaching me how to use this thing better,” Haseul teases. 

“It’s simple, just loop the four buttons I showed you to press before and vibe,” Jinsol winks and turns back to the mic. 

Haseul shakes her head but gives Jinsol a smile, starting the music just as Jinsol begins to sing. 

“Ask me no questions, I will tell you no lies. Careful what you wish for. We’re looking for angels in the darkest of skies saying that we wanted more. I feel like I’m falling but I’m trying to fly. Where does all the good go? We’re looking for answers in the highest of highs, but will we ever, ever know?” Jinsol sings, the synth beats backing her up. Haseul adds more of the music into the loop. The crowd is slowly bobbing their heads along to the music, trying to figure out where this song could be going. Despite the change in sound, there’s pleased smiles on their faces. “And I need you to know, I’m not asking for a miracle. But if love was enough, could you let it show? If you feel it could you let me know?” 

Heejin and Sooyoung come in with the guitar and bass. Hyejoo follows at the same time with the drums. The four of them harmonize with background vocals as the crowd’s energy heightens. 

They continue the song in a similar fashion. As they go the crowd gets more into the song, surprised by the sound but enjoying it nonetheless. Jinsol is more than happy that they decided to play around a bit more with their sound this time around. It seems fitting as they’re growing out of old parts of themselves and trying to find new parts. 

As Jinsol continues to sing, she keeps scanning the crowd. Hoping more than anything else that Jungeun will still show up. 

The chorus comes back around and the door at the back of the club opens. Jinsol has to stop herself from holding her breath and sing through the lines as a blonde woman and a brunette walk into the dimly lit pit. But there’s no mistaking them for anyone else. 

Jinsol’s eyes stay on Jungeun as she sings, watching as her and Yerim make their way to the back of the crowd. They stand at the same pillar Jinsol had seen Jungeun at the night they met. 

She’s waiting for Jungeun to look at her, actually look. And when their eyes do finally meet the rest of the crowd fades away. It’s just them, locked in a staring match that ignites a fire in her chest. Jinsol smiles and gives her all into the final chorus of the song, feeding off the energy in the room. 

As the song comes to an end, Haseul leans toward Jinsol, “I told you she’d come around.” 

Jinsol rolls her eyes with a smile and steps toward the drum stage to get a drink of water. Hyejoo is waving to Yerim at the back of the club with a big cheesy smile. 

“Your girlfriend finally made it,” Jinsol teases. 

“Do you see the shirts they’re wearing?” Hyejoo cackles, almost falling off her stool. “I’m dating the drummer and all I got is this stupid shirt.” 

Jinsol spins around and sees Yerim jumping up and down pointing to her shirt for Hyejoo to see. She blows Hye a kiss not caring that people are watching them in the slightest. Beside her, Jungeun looks a little more bashful, but her shirt reads something similar, “I’m dating the lead singer…” 

“Looks like you didn’t lose her after all,” Hyejoo smiles softly at Jinsol. “Which song are you gonna do next?” 

After Jungeun had cut communication with Jinsol, all she wanted was a stiff drink and to not remember the pain. But she resorted to writing a new song instead, one that said everything Jinsol wanted to tell Jungeun. They recorded it and added it as a bonus track to the album just in time before its release.

She hadn’t planned on singing it tonight, not sure that Jungeun would even show up, but now that she’s here….

“Do you remember the other song?” Jinsol asks and Hyejoo gives her an offended look. 

“Duh. Tell the others.” 

Jinsol walks back to her mic and relays the message to Haseul and Heejin, who then tells Sooyoung. The three of them nod with matching smiles of excitement. 

“Alright, normally we do little member intros at this point, but I think you all know who we are at this point,” Jinsol says, eyes scanning over the crowd, inevitably settling back on Jungeun at the edge of the room. “This album means a lot to me personally. It’s been my way of healing and finding myself again. I wrote this album—” 

“Again, we  _ helped _ !” Heejin interrupts and glares at Jinsol. 

Jinsol ignores her, “I made a lot of mistakes in my past and hurt a lot of people I cared about, including myself. I never thought that while writing and recording this album I would actually heal or find happiness or…” Jinsol smiles softly at Jungeun, “Or fall in love. I met someone a few months ago at the start of this whole process and she’s—she’s amazing. She helped me in ways she can’t possibly know. I hurt her, and I didn’t think she’d be here tonight, but she is.”

People in the audience start to look around, trying to figure out who it is. Even in the darkness, Jinsol knows Jungeun is blushing. 

“Is that the President’s daughters?” Someone says loudly. Jinsol can see Jiwoo and Somi near Yerim and Jungeun. And she’s certain there are others hidden among the crowd. 

“I feel like a better person just in knowing you. It’s crazy, right? A couple months ago I was just some punk on a stage and now, well I’m still some punk on a stage, but I’m in a good place. A better place than I was before we met, before you showed me a side of myself I thought I’d never get back. And here I am, standing in front of a crowd, telling the President’s daughter that I love her.” She keeps her eyes steady on Jungeun. “I do. Jungeun, I love you. You are so much more than what other people tell you to be. You are so much more than what you think you are. This last song, it’s—it’s yours. It’s ‘ _ For You. _ ’” 

The song starts softly, just a lone guitar starting off, and slowly the drums come in, then the rest of them as Jinsol continues to sing. 

Just before, everything else fades away, all that Jinsol sees is Jungeun, smiling at the back of the club. 

“For you, I’m not afraid to make mistakes. And you have never asked me once to change. Whenever I’m in doubt, you put the fire out.” Jinsol is overwhelmed with the love that she has for Jungeun as she sings. She doesn’t care at the moment the reason why Jungeun is here. Whether it’s to talk or finally be together, Jinsol is just happy to finally be able to tell Jungeun exactly how she feels. To show her that she is serious, that there is no one else for her than Jungeun. 

Jungeun is pushing her way through the crowd now toward the front of the stage, never taking her eyes off Jinsol as she sings. Sooyoung and Haseul harmonize with the backup vocals as the bridge comes around. 

“If your love could take me higher, I don’t mind if I do. Cause your eyes are wildfire that I’ll learn to run right through. And the tides will surely rise up and I’ll just look at you,” Jinsol kneels at the edge of the stage as Jungeun finally reaches her. “I don’t mind if I do.” 

Jungeun reaches out and takes Jinsol’s hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungeun says but Jinsol just shakes her head, still smiling. The security guard at the barricade helps Jungeun out of the crowd and escorts her backstage. 

Jinsol glances to the side and sees Yerim is already back there with Jiwoo and Somi. She smiles at them and continues the rest of the song. 

The moment the final chord rings out and the crowd begins to cheer, Jinsol is rushing backstage. She wraps Jungeun in her arms not caring how sweaty she is and hugs her tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungeun whispers against Jinsol’s neck. “I should’ve heard your side of things before—” 

“No, no,” Jinsol sets her down and holds Jungeun’s face delicately between her hands. “I shouldn’t have hidden the truth from you, any of you,” Jinsol acknowledges her bandmates who have also come off the stage. 

Hyejoo is already wrapped up in Yerim’s arms getting kisses peppered across her face. Hyejoo looks mildly disgruntled, but the corner of her mouth twitches upward with each kiss. 

“I just wanted to get closure with her, to get her blessing for this album. I wanted to—I wanted to be able to move on with  _ you _ ,” Jinsol whispers, pressing her forehead against Jungeun’s. Her heart is beating rapidly in her chest, blood rushing in her ears, and maybe it’s the adrenaline from the stage, but Jinsol thinks it has more to do with the beautiful woman in front of her. 

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry for cutting you off without letting you explain,” Jungeun smiles sadly. “I panicked for a lot of reasons, but I shouldn’t have hurt you like that either.” 

“We could’ve done things a little better, huh?” Jinsol jokes and Jungeun cracks a toothy smile. 

“Thank you for the song, it was beautiful,” Jungeun intertwines their fingers together. “Do you really feel that way?” 

“I’d prefer if you didn’t go endangering your life,” Jiwoo says from behind Jungeun. 

Jinsol leans around Jungeun and looks at Jiwoo quizzically. She glances back at Jungeun, “I’m sorry, is Jiwoo being protective of me?” 

“If you’re endangering your life, that means Jungeun either has or will endanger hers too, and that makes my job difficult, don’t flatter yourself, Jung.” 

“Nah, you like me, I can see it on your face,” Jinsol grins, turning back to Jungeun. “And yes, I meant it, maybe less dramatically, but the message is all the same. I love you, Jungeun, so much.” 

“I love you, too,” Jungeun latches her arms around Jinsol’s neck and pulls her down closer. 

“Kiss her already!” Sooyoung yells from behind them. 

“You heard her. Kiss me,” Jungeun smirks and Jinsol doesn’t waste another second. Jinsol had felt complete before, had felt whole and ready without Jungeun with her. But now she feels enhanced, like she can take on the world and several worlds over. Jinsol has no doubt that her and Jungeun are strong on their own, that they’re capable and happy independent of each other. But together they are so much more. 

Years of pain, of uncertainty for both of them, and they finally get this. This moment of contentment and absolute certainty. At least for right now they have found themselves, have found some part of peace, and they’ve found it together. 

The roaring applause from the audience breaks through their moment and they separate. Breathless. Grinning. And being teased mercilessly by their friends.

“They want an encore, Solie,” Haseul says, “We’ve already given them one hell of a show, but how about a few more songs?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Jinsol grins, “Let’s do it. I’ll meet you back out there.” 

Hyejoo kisses Yerim one more time before heading back out onto the stage. Sooyoung and Haseul follow right behind her, no doubt teasing her about Yerim, too. 

Chaewon pulls Heejin back from walking out there and kisses her softly, “Good luck.” Heejin is stunned for a moment, blinking rapidly. She looks toward Jinsol. 

“You didn’t imagine it,” Jinsol clarifies, and Heejin gives her confused nod and walks in a daze out to the stage. She turns to Jungeun, “I gotta go back out there, but I’m really happy you’re here tonight.”

“Me too,” Jungeun smiles. “Now, go give your fans an encore, and make it good. For me.”

Jungeun kisses her one more time, leaving Jinsol a breathless and blushing mess. 

Jinsol smiles, “For you? Anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in this chapter: 
> 
> "When It's Over" by Darling Parade  
> "My House" by PVRIS  
> "Lonely Girl" by Tonight Alive  
> "Paralyzed" by Against The Current  
> "Miracle" by CHVRCHES  
> "For You" by Tonight Alive
> 
> I created a playlist that's made up of pop punk girl band songs that I'm using in this fic. They'll go in order of how they appear in the fic, but also it tells a bit of a story to go with it. I made one on youtube incase you dont have spotify! LMK if the links work (:
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


	11. Epilogue: One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE an epilogue. a VERY SHORT epilogue but an epilogue nonetheless.

**Epilogue - one year later**

Jungeun looks through the viewfinder of her camera and focuses the lens on Endless Cycle through the raised arms of the crowd. She snaps a few photos and continues to move seamlessly through the sweaty bodies packed in front of the stage. 

Up on the stage, Jinsol smiles at Jungeun, sending a wink her way as she continues to sing one of their newer releases. They’re in the process of working on their next album and have released two new singles to hype up the album’s release later in the year. 

“I’ll always be right here when everything’s unclear. Please promise me you won’t let go. Hold on ‘til the morning, forget all the scoring, your flowers will finally grow, and I needed you to know!” Jinsol sings with the crowd singing along enthusiastically with her. 

Jungeun captures Jinsol’s smile as the crowd gets louder singing the lyrics. The energy in the photo radiates toward her. 

“They’re doing great,” Jiwoo says as she walks up to Jungeun. 

“I think this is their best performance to date,” Jungeun grins. She takes a few more photos of Sooyoung and Heejin messing around on stage, of Hyejoo’s passionate drumming on her platform, and Haseul and Jinsol singing in harmony into one mic. 

They’re at an outdoor musical festival and Endless Cycle had been asked to join in one of the evening slots. Which is  _ huge _ for them. Jungeun had been so proud of Jinsol, of all of them. She’s spent the last year with the band, traveling with them on their tour across the country and even a few overseas shows. 

Her mom had not been very happy to let her go, but she could see how happy the idea made Jungeun. Plus, Jungeun agreed to take Jiwoo and a few other guards with her on tour. 

After the kickoff concert last year, Jinsol had to leave Jungeun behind for months, and after the first couple weeks, Jungeun couldn’t stand it. She went out to see them at one of their California shows and Jiwoo had surprised Jungeun with a new camera for the trip. She told Jungeun to just take pictures of whatever made her happy, whatever inspired her. 

That’s how she ended up here. Not only is she now the photographer for Endless Cycle, but the music festival also hired her to take photos of the other bands throughout the day. She started growing her portfolio. Photos of the bands, the crowd, landscapes as they drive on the tour bus across the country. 

Jiwoo had been right that photography had once been her biggest passion in life. She can’t believe she abandoned it to follow a path that wasn’t meant for her. And as the months tick by, Jungeun finds herself falling more and more in love with photographing Jinsol and her band. Of concert photography and editing in general. She has no idea where this will take her, but she’s happy and she’s by Jinsol’s side throughout it all. 

Even Yerim made it out to the music festival, but she likes to stay backstage cheering Hyejoo on from there. 

“What are we doing after their set?” Jiwoo asks as they walk toward the front of the crowd. They flash their badges to the security and they let them through. 

“I have another band I need to photograph, but I think everyone else is going to dinner,” Jungeun says. “Which means  _ you _ get to watch more bands.”

“Hooray,” Jiwoo drones monotonously. 

They meet Yerim backstage who’s standing right at the edge of the stage screaming for Hyejoo. Nothing has changed that much. 

“Last song?” Jungeun asks, as she looks through the viewfinder again. 

“Nah,” Yerim shakes her head, “They have one more after  _ ‘Garden,’ _ I think it’s  _ ‘Lavender Bones.’ _ ”

“Perfect, I’m gonna get some shots from behind them, I’ll be right back,” Jungeun walks carefully out onto the stage, taking a series of photos from the side and behind the members, catching the energy of the audience as the sun goes down. 

Jungeun can see Jinsol searching for her in the crowd, but she doesn’t say anything, continuing to do her job and not distract her girlfriend. But Hyejoo has different plans when she spots Jungeun moving toward her. 

As the song ends, Hyejoo leans into her mic, “Hey, Solie, look who’s on stage.” 

“ _ Hyejoo _ ,” Jungeun groans, shooting a glare at the younger woman. 

Jinsol whips around with the biggest smile, “My girlfriend!” Jungeun blushes at the term, despite it being almost a year now since they made it official. Jinsol reaches out to Jungeun and beckons her forward. “I rarely get to embarrass her on stage, but this beautiful woman is the one who takes all our phenomenal photos. Hire her! She’s amazing.” 

“Can I go now, please?” Jungeun laughs, face as red as the setting sun. 

Jinsol grins, “I love you, yes, go take more photos.” 

Jungeun kisses her cheek quickly and rushes back to the side of the stage shaking her head. 

“Isn’t my girlfriend the cutest?” Jinsol asks Haseul who rolls her eyes but plays along. 

“She’s cute, but not as cute as my fiancée,” Haseul winks at Sooyoung who tries to keep her tough act up but fails miserably. 

“You’re all disgusting, stop,” Hyejoo groans. 

“Says the person who whines when their girlfriend is a foot away from her,” Heejin laughs. “Besides, we know my girlfriend is the cutest.”

“Your girlfriend is  _ terrifying, there's _ a difference,” Sooyoung says. She gestures to Chaewon who is glaring at the five of them from the front of the stage. 

“How about you shut it and play your last song!” Chaewon yells at them. 

“Right! Okay, thank you all for joining us at our stage today,” Jinsol smiles at the crowd. “We’re beyond grateful to get this experience so we’re going to play one of our older songs, I hope you all remember the words.” 

The band launches into their final song of the night ‘ _ Lavender Bones _ ’ and the crowd immediately starts singing along with them. The cheers are loud, overwhelming, covering up the neighboring stages cheers. 

“Sick of having empty habits leading to the selfish habits, I’m lonely in my own bones,” Jinsol sings. 

Jungeun almost forgets to take pictures as she gets sucked into the energy that Jinsol, Haseul, Sooyoung, Heejin, and Hyejoo are giving on stage. They’re grinning while singing and playing their hearts out. It’s so clear to anyone who watches them perform that they’re doing something they love. 

Jinsol reaches the chorus and the crowd's singing reaches a new high, she steps up on the speaker at the front of the stage, she leans forward holding the mic out to the crowd. The hundreds of people that came to see them perform, sing the chorus for her. 

And as Jungeun raises her camera, a rush of excitement and love hitting her, Jungeun knows that she’s doing something she loves with the person she loves more than anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's over! thank you for reading this fic, it's quickly become one of my favorites and im happy so many people enjoyed it with me. 
> 
> Songs in this chapter: 
> 
> "Garden" by Meet Me @ The Altar  
> "Lavender Bones" by Stand Atlantic
> 
> Playlist Links Below: 
> 
> youtube link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhMwA1OWDT4MEYCW_yWX98gsT1jRPFNfA
> 
> spotify link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6lAQDrMriCXKP8XqSctLVp?si=mMYiME2UTF-IGJf_P2oPYw
> 
> follow me on twitter for chaotic ramblings and updates @/zags96
> 
> ask me things here: https://curiouscat.qa/zags96


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